Flaws and All
by deConstruction
Summary: Cadet Christine Chapel is struggling to cope personally when she is forced to deal professionally with brash, arrogant and fearless fellow Cadet James T. Kirk. They struggle to co-exist, but when Vulcan is threatened will they have any other choice?
1. Prologue: Farm boy from Iowa

**A/N**: _Okay, so I watched the new movie and absolutely loved it. I loved the Uhura/Spock sub-plot and suddenly this story came to me after I thought about it a little more. It features a character, Christine Chapel, that wasn't part of the film other than an off-screen line that was spoken, but was part of the original TV series. Hopefully, I'm going to follow the movie as much as possible with the plot of this, and have scenes from different perspectives; namely hers. I've taken a few liberties with her, and basically re-written her character as I imagined her based on what I saw in the film. I've taken a few points from Memory-Alpha, but mostly she's a re-imagined version._

_I disclaim, I don't own anything Star Trek related and I'm not getting any profit from this work of fiction. Please read and review. I hope you enjoy_

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**2255, Iowa**

The sound of something crashing into the door before it had had the chance to 'swish' open disturbed the young nursing student from her studies. Looking up from the computerized works of advanced bio-chemistry, she tucked a silken strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her left ear to see who else had come to the refectory. It was late; far too late for someone to be arriving for their evening meal. She never saw anybody here at this hour, and she'd been here at this time a lot over the past month to find their appearance odd. She'd dimmed the lights earlier in the evening as she always did, preferring to work from the light of her portable computer than in the glare of the room's fluorescent bulbs.

The shadowed figure moved deftly through the room, keeping to the edge of the polished flooring and avoiding the tables that were stacked with upside down chairs for the evening. She leaned back in her own seat, sliding the reading glasses from her face and placing them on the table in front of her. Almost unconsciously, she folded the arms together in a pattern she'd repeated every time she'd taken the spectacles off. There was something about the protruding arms that made her uncomfortable, and she couldn't rest until they were folded. An old boyfriend had commented that she had a touch of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; that she couldn't bear to have the clean lines of shapes interrupted. He had probably been right, not that she'd admitted it at the time, and she certainly wouldn't now. Deciding that thinking about Roger Korby wasn't the healthiest of activities, she refocused her attention on the figure moving quietly toward the counter.

They obviously knew what they were doing, the way they slipped behind the counter and moved straight for the refrigerators. The sound of the opening magnetically sealed door broke the silence of the night, and she caught a glimpse of a red cadet uniform as the light spilled out from inside the cooling box. A smile curved her coral pink lips, and she leant forward to rest her elbows on the table. She had plenty of time to wait for the late-night snacker to come out from behind the counter, so she may as well leave them in ignorance for now.

She didn't have to wait too long, as the snap of Starfleet-issue boots once more sounded across the floor. Struggling to hold back the grin, the strawberry-blonde cleared her throat. "It's a little late to be getting a dessert fix, isn't it Nyota?"

She'd obviously startled them, as the shadowed figure gasped, and the sound of something frozen solid clattering onto the floor made the strawberry blonde chuckle under her breath as it quickly followed.

"Computer, lights."

Recruit Nyota Uhura's command was answered immediately, the computer taking the verbal command as law to increase the illumination within the refectory. The lights above flooded the room with artificial illumination, displaying the wide floor covered with tables and chairs. It danced over the metal legs and the polished sheen of the floor, and banished the shadows that had kept both women hidden moments before.

"For heaven's sake Christine," Uhura breathed, holding a hand to the middle of her chest, "you scared the deuterium out of me! How did you know it was me?"

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself." Christine smirked, shrugging her shoulders as if that proved her innocence. "And who else would be sneaking into the refectory at almost midnight to get a sugar hit?"

Frowning in mock admonishment, Uhura bent down to scoop up the tub of ice cream that she'd dropped moments before, mumbling something about sitting in the dark like a weirdo. Moving between the tables to where her friend was sat, she raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here this late, anyway?" Spying the digital text books, she clucked her tongue, adding a disapproving shake of her head to her apparent displeasure. "What could you possibly have to study the day before we enlist in Starfleet, Chapel? We haven't been anywhere to earn an assignment yet!"

Powering down the computerized textbook, nursing student Christine Chapel placed her reading glasses on top of it. "I just wanted to get a head start on the first semester. I heard earlier that Doctor T'Kel from Vulcan is teaching the first term of bio-science this year, and she's a real ball-breaker. I'm trying to stay ahead is all."

"See, I knew I should've forced you to come out with us tonight." Pulling out one of the chairs at the table where Christine had settled, Uhura dropped into the seat. "Sitting around in the dark, studying work from lectures we haven't even attended yet is not acceptable, normal behaviour Christine. I may not be a medical student, but even I know it's not healthy to be studying every waking moment of the day. You need to learn to relax before your head has a warp core breach."

Both women giggled softly, as Uhura peeled back the lid from the ice cream. Producing a plastic spoon, she immediately dug into the softening cream coloured dessert. Placing it between her lips, she removed it, completely clearing it of the dessert. Offering the spoon to Christine, her friend accepted it and copied her movements by scooping out some of the dessert.

"Mmmmm, vanilla. If you're here eating this," Christine motioned toward the ice cream as she handed the spoon back to Uhura, "then I'm glad I didn't join you. You only indulge in a late night binge when something's upset you." Uhura frowned at how transparent she was, even though Christine was a friend who by rights should be able to pick up such queues. "What happened, Nyota?"

Uhura's beautiful African features twisted into a mask of disapproval. Her nostrils flared as she huffed out an agitated breath. She stabbed at the ice cream with the spoon, almost snapping it cleanly in half with the force of it. "Some stupid, inbred hick decided to flirt with me at the bar. A couple of the guys stepped in to defend my honour – which was totally unnecessary because I could handle him myself, and what it is with men feeling the need to have to wade in feet first anyway. Just because I'm a woman I can't deal with the drunken advances of a nobody? It is getting beyond a joke..."

At the amused expression her friend gave her, Uhura realised she'd gone off topic. "...that's not important. So the stupid farm boy starts running his mouth off and this fight breaks out. It took, like four of the guys, to take this hick down. And then they started pounding on him, like really badly."

Christine winced for the stranger; knowing exactly how heavy-handed her fellow recruits could be when the situation arose. _Poor farm boy, _she thought. Christine remained silent however, and allowed Uhura to finish her recount of the events of her evening.

Gulping down another chunk of ice cream, Uhura ran her thumb over her bottom lip to catch a smear of the dessert. "And at the worst possible moment, Captain Pike walks in. I wanted to crawl into a corner and die of humiliation. Not only was I made to feel like I was some pathetic, defenceless damsel in distress, but one of the most respected Captain's ever walks in and finds a group of our year acting like Neanderthals. How good could that have looked to him? I guess I can kiss goodbye my dreams of getting to serve on the flagship."

Sighing, Uhura stabbed the spoon into the tub and leaned back into her seat, crossing her arms over her stomach in a defeated posture.

"That's not so bad," Christine offered, "I mean it's not like you were behaving inappropriately or anything. And the guys...well they were just being the guys. Don't be too hard on them Nyota, they were just trying to do what they thought was right. They'll defend any recruit without much provocation. Besides, we all know Davis has a huge crush on you. He's bound to come to your rescue, whether you're in trouble of not. He can't help himself."

Uhura rolled her eyes. Focusing on her friend, she studied her with an appraising eye. Even in the artificial light, Christine Chapel was stunning. Petit and curved in all the right places, her face was delicately shaped with flawless, creamy white skin. Her high cheek bones made Christine's blue eyes resemble precious gems imbedded in orbs of porcelain. Add to that wave upon wave of strawberry blonde hair that framed her face and fell to the middle of her back, and it didn't take a genius to work out why the nursing student was the subject of most of the male recruits late night fantasies. A look from her could make even the most battle-hardened Captain drop shields and surrender his ship without question.

But for all her beauty and natural charm, Christine apparently wasn't interested in dating any of her fellow recruits. Despite her literal pick of any man she met, the would-be nurse preferred single life. That was the way it appeared to everyone else, anyway. Uhura knew better, and the real reason why her friend shunned the opposite sex when it came to romance. "The only reason he looks at me was because you knocked him back at the Starfleet taster event," she finally countered, "which, by the way you totally should not have done. He's cute, his father is a high ranking officer in Starfleet and Davis is on the fast track to getting his own ship. You could do worse than get involved with a future Starship Captain."

"Let's not go there," Christine groaned, knowing she'd had this conversation too many times already with Uhura and what not about to be drawn back into it now. "You know I'm not interested in dating right now. I want to focus on the next four years, pass my medical degree, get my commission and get onboard a ship. Guys will still be there once I've done all that."

"Honey, it's been a year since Roger." Uhura said gently, inferring the real reason why her friend wasn't prepared to get involved with someone. "Don't you think maybe it's time you put yourself back out there, just to dip your toe in the water a little? I hate that a guy hurt you so much, but you have to move on at some point, don't you? Just a date here and there would do you good."

"No," Christine snapped, her hair swinging in an arc around her head as she turned to stare into the distance, "this has nothing to do with Roger. I-I'm totally over him now." She turned back to face Uhura, and immediately regretted it. The look of sympathy in her friend's face was almost enough to reduce her into a blubbering mess. "Really Nyota, I am. Roger is busy securing his future in the field, and now it's time for me to get series about mine. Men are just a distraction that I don't need right now."

Picking up her reading glasses, Christine played with them between her delicate fingers, twisting the arms to make the spectacles turn in a full circle in her hands. Uhura knew it was pointless to push the subject of men with Christine. She clearly wasn't ready to date anyone else, and however much Nyota felt that her friend should get back out there, Christine would have to choose that option on her own. Deciding a subject change was in order, she smiled toward the reading glasses.

"Why do you still wear those anyway? You know you could get your sight corrected in a second by any doctor."

Christine smiled. "Because I like wearing them. It makes me focus more on my studies because I need to wear them to learn. And besides, just because we can correct every little imperfection doesn't mean we should. Aren't our flaws what make us human anyway?"

Uhura nodded. "Fine, keep your scaffolding. I have a feeling you'll be needing them when we get to Starfleet. Maybe I should get a pair. You think it would make me appear more studious? Like to Captain Pike, maybe?"

"You're plenty studious." Christine sighed, shaking her head as Uhura scoffed. "You graduated in the top three percent of your year Nyota and aced the entry exams. You can't get anymore studious."

"Maybe you're right," Uhura sighed. Reaching for the spoon, she started to stir the melting ice cream in lazy circles. "Being stupid apparently didn't hurt the farm boy's chances with the Captain, anyway."

"Farm boy?" Christine repeated. "Oh, you mean the guy who got beat up? What didn't hurt his chances?"

"Being stupid. Not that he really is." Seeing her friend's confused expression, Nyota explained. "It was just something he said. That guy was really this intelligent man wrapped up in the clothes of an idiotic rebel. When we were leaving the bar, I saw Captain Pike go over and start talking to him. What he could possibly have to say to someone as vulgar as that I don't know. But he's obviously not without his charms if a man like Pike wants to talk to him."

"I wonder who he is." Christine echoed her friend's as yet unspoken curiosity.

"Me too. Something tells me he relies on his good looks to get by, which didn't serve him that well when he had a few fists rammed into his pretty face." Uhura chuckled.

"Pretty face eh? Maybe he wasn't as bad as you're making him out to be. I think a little dalliance with a bad boy might help you relax before we start training." Christine grinned, nudging Uhura's knee under the table.

"Oh please. As if I'd ever fall for a handsome face and a few wannabe-charming words. Credit me with a little intelligence." Christine giggled and Nyota made a playful swat for her head. "It doesn't matter anyway. He was vile and piggish and rude. And we're shipping out tomorrow, so I'll never have to look at him again."

"Or at least you hope." Uhura grunted, and Chapel threw her head back into a laugh. Reaching forward, she began to gather up her computerized books, tucking them under her arm. "C'mon, we should head back to the dorms. We've got an early start tomorrow, and we don't want to be late for the shuttle. We want to keep you in Pike's good graces, right Uhura?"

"Right." Snatching up her ice cream, Uhura followed her friends lead, calling for the computer to shut off the lights as they made their exit. As far as she was concerned, tonight was just a minor bump in the road to her destiny as a ship's officer. Whatever Pike's opinion of her, Uhura was certain she could patch things up with the senior officer if she needed to.

And regardless of the Captain's connection to the man in the bar, Uhura hoped that it wasn't going to reflect badly on her. She'd worked too long and too hard to lose her shot at Starfleet now. The future was in the grasp of her more than capable hands.

And no pretty faced farm boy was about to make it slip between her figures.


	2. Such a big ego

**A/N**: _Thanks you for the reviews! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter, and hope you continue to read and review!_

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_**Three Years Later**_

With arms firmly wrapped around the bundle of digitalized medical text books, Christine Chapel eased her way between the opening doors of her dorm building. She still held a concern that one day the doors wouldn't open fast enough, and she would walk straight into them and embarrass herself totally; probably in front of a high ranking officer. It hadn't happened yet, but Christine still manoeuvred cautiously through the doors just in case. Catching a slipping volume, she readjusted the pile of books and continued inside as the doors swished to a close behind her.

Those mechanised doors stood out completely when they were compare to the rest of the building. It was styled to resemble a private school house from some time during the 20th century. Its tall bay windows and turreted rooftops gave it an air of aging splendour that modern buildings seemed to lack. Once past the 'state of the art' doorway, the hallway stretched out in front of Cadet Chapel. It was finished in an aged cherry oak that covered the floors and the walls alike. The panels had been so carefully placed that one couldn't tell where the floor ended and the walls began. Paintings hung between each ground floor door, some of which led to bedrooms whilst others into offices or the communal dining and leisure areas. The works of art portrayed a range of images, from older starships that had begun Starfleet's explorations of the stars, to famous military Captains from over the centuries. There was a particularly sour looking image of a naval Captain from a few centuries ago that always gave Christine the creeps. It was so bad that she'd never gotten close enough to the picture to get the name of the officer that was imprinted on the gold plaque on the base of the frame. The dark, shadowed eyes seemed to follow her across the hall and she couldn't help but quicken her pace whenever she walked past it.

The flats of her shoes whispered over the floor, and the grandfather clock standing proudly against the wall informed her with a chime that it was almost three o'clock. Reaching the bottom step, the nursing student took them three at a time, bounding up to the third floor as the muscles in her legs alternately tensed and extended as they propelled her to the floor on which her bedroom was located.

Heading across the landing she stopped at her door, producing a key card that she waved in front of the scanner to her dorm room. A muted beeping echoed from somewhere within the mechanised door and it swung open, opening up her room to her.

Christine's little corner of the dormitory was standard issue as far as dorms went. She was one of the few Cadets lucky enough to have their own room, and despite it being on the cramped side of comfortable, it was as much home to the New Orleans native as her birthplace was.

She'd put her own stamp on its decoration after moving in. The carpet had been covered by a wine red rug that had seen better days, but it matched the heavy drapes that hung on either side of the windows in a faded shade of near red. Pictures of famous Doctors and scientists occasionally broke up the monotony of her eggshell coloured walls; acting as inspiration when the Cadet was studying into the early hours of the morning. Other than the pictures of scientific geniuses, the room was still fairly Spartan. There was the standard issue bed, chest of drawers and desk combination, as well as a desk for studying and a door that led to the en-suite box. It was supposed to be her own bathroom, although Christine couldn't see how anyone other than a child could move around inside due to the lack of space. Taking a bath was akin to an act of contortionism at the best of times, but it was a routine that felt normal to her now.

The moment she stepped inside the room, Christine felt a wave of familiar warmth wash over her. The way the beams of light sliced through the window and caught the spirals of dust that floated through the air made her release a breath of contentment that she hadn't known she was holding. This was bliss for her, and she wanted nothing more than to take a moment to enjoy it; to curl up in her own little sanctum and shut out the rest of the world for the day. Unfortunately that was not to be. The door to her room wasn't given the chance to close completely as a hand sticking through from outside triggered the override and the entry swished open again. Turning around to face the intruder who had broken her solitude, Christine felt the beginnings of her frown begin to melt away as she recognised her guest.

"Of all the stubborn minded, egotistical – no, ego _maniacal_ men I have ever met..." Without pausing for breath, Nyota Uhura stormed past Christine to launch herself onto her friend's bed. The mattress bounced under the sudden pressure, making Uhura wobble slightly before settling with her back against the wall, "that moronic farm boy has to be the most arrogant waste of perfectly good oxygen I have ever had the misfortune to come into contact with. I swear if I could find a way to beam him into a rock without getting caught, I would do it!"

Placing her computer texts on the top of her desk, Christine perched herself on the end of it, readying herself for yet another volley of ranting about the ubiquitous farm boy James Kirk. In the three years that she and Nyota had been studying at Starfleet Academy, rarely a week went by without Uhura storming into her room raving about the latest exploit of Kirk and the inventive ways her friend wanted to end his existence. Today it was transporting him into solid matter; previous diatribes had involved gruesome deaths that featured a laser saw or a springboard dive into the wrap core reactor. Based on the severity of Kirk's untimely end in this instance, Christine guessed he'd definitely overstepped the mark in some way.

"What did he do now?"

"You mean other than breathing?" Uhura seethed. "I swear he is a walking death wish, and I'm tired of being dragged into his schemes all the time! I dread to think the amount of trouble I could get into if the instructors ever realised how well I know him. No matter how much I try to stay away from him, he just keeps popping up and ruining my life!"

"Relax Nyota," Chapel soothed, "not even the top brass would find you guilty just by association, even with someone like James Kirk."

That being said, Nyota did raise a fair point. Christine couldn't help but wonder how Kirk managed to stay in the Academy. She'd never had the chance to interact with him one on one, although she'd been out with him in group settings on a handful of occasions. Other than that, the most Christine could say she'd seen of Kirk was the back of his head and his facial profile on a few occasions. She and Uhura kept different circles of friends; with Christine as likely to be spending time with the medical recruits as Uhura was to be keeping busy with the linguistics crowd. Their friendship had remained through the Academy, but she couldn't even call Kirk as much as a mutual acquaintance.

Of course, that didn't mean she was unaware of Kirk's reputation with the rest of the students. But if the rumours were to be believed, if Kirk wasn't busy getting on the wrong side of instructors he was finding comfort in the arms of willing female students from across all the years of the Academy. Something told Christine she was lucky to be out of range for his targeting scanners.

"Not only did I catch him my room rolling around like a hog with Gaila," Nyota shuddered with disgust, "but he's had the bare faced _cheek _to drag me into yet another failed attempt to beat the _Kobayashi Maru _test tomorrow."

"The _Kobayashi Maru_? Again?" Christine looked puzzled. "Didn't he fail that already, like twice?"

"Damn right he did. Only he's putting himself in for it for a third time. That boy handles failure like he handles rejection; he refuses to accept it! And now I've been drafted in to act as his communications officer." Uhura clenched her hands together into a tight ball. "That moron specifically requested me, apparently. Why does he hate me so much? What did I go to get dragged into his downward spiral to explusion? Doesn't he ever consider how this affects everyone else?"

Christine shrugged her shoulders. "Ego-maniacs tend not to."

"Right." Kicking her left leg up, Uhura crossed it over her right and folded her arms tightly across her chest. "And the farm boy's idiocy aside, it's not like anyone could beat the test. That's the whole point of it, the reason why it was designed. Nobody can out-smart the _Kobayashi Maru_; it's about how you deal with the scenario that tests your ability as a commanding officer. God only knows what the higher ups make of Kirk's character because he keeps trying and failing. And now I'm being dropped into the same pile as him." Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, Uhura released an exasperated sigh. "I think I'm getting a migraine."

Slipping her hand into the top draw of her desk, Christine pulled out a home use hypospray filled with pain relief medication. She tossed it across the space to Uhura, who caught it in a one handed grip.

"Don't get so worked up by him Uhura." Moving from her perch on the edge of the surface, Christine moved to take a seat on the bed next to her friend. "Let Kirk do his own thing. You know he'll fail the test again, and you and everyone else who he has forced to take part will not be affected by it." Squeezing her shoulder, Christine offered Nyota a warm smile. "Just go through the motions."

Uhura nodded, leaning to rest her head on her friends shoulder. "You're right. I'm sorry I come in here ranting all the time, but he just gets under my skin."

Christine just smiled, not bothered in the slightest at her friend's motives for coming to see her. "Do you think Kirk actually believes he can beat the test?"

"He's more of an idiot than I gave him credit for if he does. Spock designed that scenario. Of course no-one can beat it."

"Why Cadet Uhura," Chapel smirked at the tone in her friend's voice, "you sound almost proud of the Commander."

"Shut up," Nyota chuckled, pulling away from her friend to sit up properly. "I just admire his genius."

Of course Christine knew better. She wasn't entirely sure when the affair between teacher and pupil had started, but she was the only one who did know about it out of the students and the teaching faculty. During a tearful revelation, Uhura had confessed to her friend, realising she couldn't keep it a secret forever and needed reassurance that she was doing the right thing by keeping the relationship alive, albeit in secret. "Sure, sure. And the fact that you spent two of the past three nights with him has nothing to do with your admiration of his talents."

Uhura's face flushed with colour, but that was nothing compared to the delighted smile that brightened her features. "He's just the most amazing man Christine," she gushed, "everything about him is just so exquisitely wonderful, it takes my breath away. His intelligence astounds me, I could easily spend all day just listening to him talk." Uhura took the moment to apparently slip into a day dreamed fantasy as she imagined doing just that. She came back to the moment just as quickly, with a slightly more schooled expression. "He is so serious and calm all of the time, but beneath that logical exterior is the warmest heart of anyone I've ever met."

Christine couldn't help the expression that crossed her features. And to make matters worse, her voice betrayed her before she'd had a chance to properly word her concerns. "He's Vulcan Nyota. Don't be so sure his heart is anything above freezing."

"Half Vulcan," Uhura automatically corrected, "and he may show his logical face to the Cadets and superiors, but I know he has feelings for me. I-I know he does. Why else would we still be together if he didn't?"

Realising Uhura had moved from simply defending her relationship to seeking validation, Christine smiled affectionately, slinging her arm around her friend's shoulder. "Of course, ignore me Nyota. I just worry about you, that's all. I can't quite get my head around anyone non-logical dating a Vulcan. And I know it can't be easy having to run around behind everyone's back just so you can be together."

Uhura nodded sadly. Christine felt instantly guilty for saying anything at all. Uhura's relationship with Spock was as much a source of hurt and frustration as it was one of pleasure and contentment. She didn't mean to make her friend feel any worse about it, even if she didn't believe her being with an Academy instructor was exactly the smartest move for the linguistics expert. But Christine wasn't about to say anything more on the subject. Uhura was her own woman and it was her decision on who she chose to date. And even if she wasn't, Christine knew she wasn't the right person to be giving relationship advice.

The first and last serious relationship she'd had ended so badly that she hadn't dated anyone since. The realisation that it had almost been four years since her last date shocked Christine into silence. Both women were left side by side, each considering their own romantic issues when Nyota finally broke the silence.

"Well, as much fun as it's been, I need to get back to the dorm. I should probably brush up on Communications Officer Protocol ahead of tomorrow's spectacular failure. At least I can show my own competence even if the Farm boy can't." Pushing herself up from the bed, Nyota stopped to face Christine before heading out of the door. "Oh, a couple of the guys were talking about maybe going out for a drink after the test if you feel like joining us?"

Christine instantly froze at the prospect. "Uh, as nice as that sounds..."

"Oh come on Christine! One drink with everyone after my incredibly taxing day struggling to put up with that awful farm boy?" Christine knew the look Uhura was giving her was meant to break down her reserve and make her join them, but it only had the opposite effect. "Cadet Mitchell specifically asked me if you were coming. He's a really great guy Christine, a real sweetheart. What should I tell him?"

"Tell him thanks, but I've got studying to do." Annoyed at the uncertain tone in her voice, Christine lifted her chin and straightened her back in an effort to make herself appear more confident than she actually felt. "There's a big exam coming up in a few weeks on the effect of inter-planetary travel on the Andorian musculature density. I need to get a head start on my revision."

"Christine," Uhura's tone had softened, but the sigh displayed her frustration at her friend's response. "You need to take a break sometime. It doesn't matter about Mitchell. Just come out with your friends and let your hair down for a few hours. You've earned the break. I promise I'll keep all the men away from you so you can just have a good time."

"Thank you," Christine replied without missing a beat, "but no. Good luck with your performance in the _Kobayashi Maru_. Come and see me when it's done?"

Uhura nodded, knowing she was being practically dismissed by her friend. She wanted to argue the point, she shake some sense into her friend and beg her to rejoin the social land of the living. But four years of friendship with Christine Chapel had taught Uhura anything, once the nursing studen't mind was made up, you were only wasting your breath trying to change it. "If you're sure Christine. I'll talk to you tomorrow." With one last uncertain look toward her friend, Uhura left Christine alone in her room with her ghosts of failed romances.

Hearing the sound of her doors swishing closed, Christine sighed and relaxed against the wall. Feeling ridiculous for being relieved that her friend had left her alone. She had to admit that she was tempted to join Uhura and the others, but knew herself better that to accept the offer. Being out with everyone would lead to uncomfortable situations that she wasn't prepared to deal with. She wasn't arrogant enough to think that she'd be the source of any man's attention, but just the threat of having to deal with the advances of someone made her blood run cold in her veins. A relationship just wasn't an option for her right now, and considering how Uhura was struggling to deal with hers, she'd hoped her friend would understand that.

What Christine was certain of, was that her reluctance had nothing to do with Roger. Her involvement with him had ended over four years ago. Of course she was over him now. What was so wrong with a Starfleet Cadet wanting to focus on her career for a few years?

Deciding that the longer she sat without anything to do, the more she would get drawn into old arguments and neurosis over her failed relationship with Roger, Christine reached over for a computerized textbook and powered it on. Immersing herself in skeletal structure study, she did her best to use it as a way to silence the gnawing voices of the past that threatened to be her undoing.


	3. The Farm boy and the Nurse

_**A/N**__**: **__Thank you all for your great reviews. I'm thrilled that you're enjoying what I've written, I've had a real good time writing. I saw the film again tonight, and it kicked my muse into overdrive. This is the first scene that happens during the movie. Think of this as happening when the 'camera' moved from Bones/Kirk to Uhura/Spock etc, and it's from Christine's point of view. I've stayed as close to the movie as I could without changing it, don't shoot me if it's not perfect! _

_Please read and review! I disclaim!_

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Things were happening far too quickly for Christine to cope with. One minute she'd been sat in the upper echelons of an official Starfleet hearing to decide whether or not Cadet James Tiberius Kirk should be disciplined for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru test. The next thing anyone knew, Vulcan was sending out a planetary distress signal and the entire body of in-training Starfleet Cadets were mobilising toward a hanger where they would be assigned to serve on board actual Starships. Were Starfleet really going to send them on a mission now? Had their leaders totally taken leave of their senses? No-one had graduated yet! They were still Cadets for crying out loud, how could any of them could possibly be expected to crew a Starship in a potentially planet threatening situation?

Just thinking about it sent Christine spiralling into panic. Her chest heaved rapidly beneath her cobalt cadet uniform, and she did her best to blend into the moving crowd so she didn't make a scene of herself. She wanted to catch up to Uhura and at least try and gain some sense of support from her friend. But the communications expert had already gone ahead and was probably waiting expectantly to be told she was to join the Enterprise. In reality, there was nowhere else for Uhura to go. As one of the top performing students in their year, she was certainly going to be posted there.

And for the first time in her life, Christine cursed her own academic achievements. She had out performed her entire class in every possible way, and instructors could not praise her enough. And if it was going to be the convention for all the top students to be posted to the soon to be christened flagship, Christine Chapel was on a one way trip to the Enterprise.

With her vision starting to blur from the increased amount of oxygen flooding her system, Christine knew she was bordering on a panic attack. She recognised the symptoms all too well, and had to stop before she stumbled to the ground. Slipping out of the crowd, Christine rested her back against the wall, her blue eyes falling shut as the nursing Cadet valiantly fought to get a hold of herself. The last time she'd undergone an attack this severe, she'd been with Roger for the last time in their relationship. It was on that night that he'd told her that...

_Don't think about that now Chapel, _she mentally scalded herself. _Focus on something else, just until you get your breath back!_

The only thing that came to mind for her to focus on was the disciplinary hearing from moments ago. Kirk had looked so calm and collected as he'd descended the steps to the podium, asking to face his accuser in a clear and authoritative voice that belonged on the bridge of a Starship issuing commands, not in a Cadet disciplinary hearing. Christine couldn't imagine how Kirk had faced off so bravely against Commander Spock. Most people who came up against the fiercely logical Vulcan were left a quivering mess. But Kirk stood toe to toe with the science officer, arguing so confidently and so coherently that nobody could fail to be impressed with his performance.

Christine was no different. From the moment Kirk had stood up, she'd felt a warm stirring in the pit of her stomach that had been so cold to emotion for so long that she couldn't recall the last time anyone had had that effect on her. Despite her aversion to the opposite sex, Christine knew it would take an emotionally dead person not to be taken with the young command Cadet. His body filled out the red uniform in a delicious way that complimented his toned figure and left a woman's imagination running in Warp Drive as he moved. Everything about him was graceful, but not in the same way as a dancer travelled. Kirk was more like a jungle cat, lithe and powerful and sleek with every move deliberate and enticing to anyone who happened to cross his path.

His face could only be described as both masculine and handsome at the same time. Each feature was chiselled into a sharp line that was only tempered by his wide mouth with the fullest of lips she'd ever seen. And Kirk's eyes were almost supernatural to look at. Christine caught the briefest of glimpses of them as he turned to face his fellow cadets during the hearing; a bewitching ocean blue that sparkled with intelligence and a defiant fire that he deliberately allowed to clash with his red uniform. She wondered what it would be like to be caught under the gaze of those beautiful eyes, and felt a shiver run up the length of her spine because of it.

"Hey, are you okay?"

The deep timber of a man's voice broke the little fantasy Christine was having. Part of her wondered if it was healthy to be thinking about a man in such terms when she barely knew anything about him, other than his appearance. Then again, this was the first time she'd thought about a man as anything other than a threat to her in years, so decided there was no real harm in letting her imagination wander for a few moments.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Christine replied, reluctant to open her eyes for fear of losing the image of Kirk's, "it all just got a little crowded for a second."

Blinking her eyes back open, Christine's breath instantly caught in her chest. Gone was the imagined searing gaze of James T. Kirk, and in its place was the real thing. Kirk stood before her, his head tilted down to meet the level of her gaze. His sapphire eyes peered inquisitively into hers, an expression of mild concern softening his face. Christine sucked in a halted breath, unable to keep her hands from her chest. Intelligent thought escaped her for the moment. All she could see and think about were his bluest of blue eyes.

"Just take it easy for a second," his voice was soft, but the tone low enough to cut through the din created by the movements of the rest of the Cadets shuffling through the corridors. "That was a lot for all of us to take in at once. You're not the only one who could use a breather."

Kirk didn't say it in a patronizing way, rather like he was simply stating a fact to make her feel better. For some reason, Christine had suddenly become mute, and could only nod in response. Hardly the witty reply she felt like she should deliver. But even if Kirk noticed, he didn't mention it and seemed happy enough to fill the silence her lack of speech instigated with his own voice. "You looked about ready to pass out for a second. Are you sure you okay? I could grab you a nursing Cadet, or someone medical to check you over?"

She felt herself smile at that, and caught the slightest of changes in Kirk's expression, although she couldn't say as to what. If anything, his burning gaze seemed to focus harder on her now than before. "There's no need, honestly. I am a nursing Cadet and I'm fine. Thank you for the offer, though."

Well that didn't sound too contrived, at least to Christine. Kirk returned her look in a half-smile. She'd heard of a man's smile making a woman go weak at the knees, only she'd never experienced it before. But the moment his lips curved, Christine's body betrayed her. Her legs gave way from under her body, and Christine would have gone head first onto the cold hard floor if Kirk hadn't reached for her. His hands caught her instantly, one placed on her hip and the other resting on her left hand side. Whether he meant to or not, Kirk held Christine against his chest, and she had a moment to feel the firm muscle beneath the tunic. Feeling colour flood her cheeks, she tried to step back but his hands wouldn't let her. She only managed to get back about an arm's length, but his supporting hands prevented her moving out of his grasp.

"What's the rush Cadet?" The smile on his face was different now, almost conveying some sort of challenge. "I think maybe I should help you get to the hanger. If I leave you here you might just end up on the floor, and I couldn't have that on my conscience."

"Well no, I wouldn't want that." Where had that come from? Was that her trying to flirt? She hoped not, because that was the last thing she wanted to be doing. And more to the point, it sounded awful. Cringing inwardly, Christine wasn't given any time to discover her own motives for replying like she had as Kirk's smile changed again and all rational thought fell out of her, and she was reduced to being a transfixed mute once more.

"Then it's settled." Moving to fall into step beside her, Kirk dropped his hand from Christine's side, but left one at her waist. She could feel it pressing lightly into her lower back, and the grip of his hand a firm but gentle constant on her hip.

Kirk guided her forward, his hand steering her onward through corridor toward the hanger. Where the tips of his fingers pressed into the flesh of her hip, Christine could feel the starting of a tingling sensation. It spread from her side slowly, each heartbeat spreading the sensations further through her body until her abdomen started to feel like his hands were all over it. She was thankful of the bustle of the crowd all around them, otherwise she was certain Kirk would be able to hear the pant that was now her breathing. Who was this man that he could have such a dramatic effect on her in such a short space of time? Christine was in control enough to realise that she definitely felt a level of attraction for James Kirk; but this onslaught of sensation was getting all too much too quickly. She was a grown woman, and shouldn't be having such a school-girl moment over something so trivial as a helping hand.

"What year are you in?" Christine turned to face Kirk at the sound of his voice. It didn't seem that his question was anything above a whisper, but she felt somehow privileged that he was lowering his voice for only her to hear.

It was only then that she realised what he'd just said. "My year? Are you kidding?"

"No." He looked blankly at her. "I don't remember meeting you before. Are you a first year? I don't know many of the newer Cadets at all."

Christine stopped now, deliberately pulling out of the grip of his hand. She turned to face him fully, an amused if slightly annoyed expression masking her features. "Are you being serious?" At the raised eyebrows he responded with, Christine knew he was. Okay, so they weren't exactly friendly, but they _had_ met before. In fact, they'd been in the same lecture for Federation Early History during the first part of the third year. Was James Kirk really that self-involved that he couldn't recall someone he'd hung out with in a group, much less spent two hours every Tuesday afternoon studying with?

"What? Are you a second year then?"

"Unbelievable." The warm, tingling sensation was quickly extinguished by icy, bubbling fury. If she was going to give James Kirk credit for anything, it was to bring out the extreme emotions in her. Was it wrong of her to feel so angry that he didn't recognise her? Why should she even care? Christine's brain was no longer connected to her mouth it seemed as what she thought didn't come close to matching what she said. "I can't believe that you don't know who I am."

Kirk looked ashen. "Oh god, we have met before haven't we?" Christine only nodded once. "This is embarrassing. I don't normally forget a face, I swear. Especially one as beautiful as yours." _Oh my god. He totally just said that out loud. Why the hell am I blushing?_ "In my defence I meet a lot of girls in the Academy. It's hard to keep track of them all, all of the time."

Swallowing the acrid taste in her throat at the audacity of the man, Christine schooled her face to be expressionless. "Oh I'm sure it is hard to keep track of all the women you are involved with." Kirk obviously realised what he'd said, or more specifically how it sounded but he was too late to save himself. "Well, we've made it to the hanger. Thank you for your help Cadet."

Without giving Kirk the chance to explain, Christine pushed past him, allowing herself to be absorbed back into the crowd. Focusing on getting to her scheduled meeting place, she couldn't hear Kirk calling out to her to stop, and what he'd actually meant by his association with female Cadets. Despite her strawberry blonde hair being enough to normally stand out in a crowd, Kirk's keen blue eyes lost her in the throng of bodies.

Moving swiftly through the crowd, Christine made it to her designated meeting place just as the role call started. The commanding officer, dressed all in black, read from a digitized pad without pausing to look up as he reeled off a list of names and their designated positions.

"Adams, Michael J _USS Centaurus_. Ana, Lucille S _USS Centaurus_. Bullock, Kathryn _USS Walcott_, Call, Victor _USS Hood_. Chapel, Christine, _USS Enterprise..."_

Christine didn't need to hear anymore. In fact, she couldn't. A low pitched buzzing filled her ears, and if she thought she was ready to pass out before, the knowledge that she was assigned to the flagship was more than enough to send her over the edge. The group of Cadets split off around her, dispersing in a myriad of directions and she was left alone, reeling from the news that her greatest aspiration had become her living nightmare. Christine wasn't ready to serve on board on a Starship. She wanted nothing more than to find a dark corner to lie down in until the world stopped spinning. Unfortunately that was not be as Uhura's voice cut through the buzzing sound.

"Chapel! Hey, Chapel!"

Glancing up, Christine could see her friend coming toward her, narrowly avoiding two Cadets who were rushing off in the opposite direction.

"Where did you get assigned?" Uhura's expression was urgent, almost angry as she demanded an answer.

She barely managed to choke out a reply. "Enterprise. I'm going to the Enterprise." Saying it out loud made it more real for Christine, not something that filled her with confidence.

"That manipulative, back stabbing sorry excuse for a Vulcan!" Uhura raged. "He stuck me on the _Farragut_. The damn _Farragut_, of all ships! Can you believe it? Well I'm be damned if he's going to stop me getting on the Enterprise. No way!"

Without another word, as though she were caught in a trance, Nyota span on her heel and began marching across the hanger toward Commander Spock. So focused on her mission, she missed Christine meekly calling after her. Not that it mattered. Barely left alone by one agitated Cadet, Christine was blindsided by another.

"Cadet Chapel," a gruff voice called from behind her, "with me please."

She recognised the voice as Leonard McCoy, another medical Cadet that she'd studied with over the years. He too marched past her, only he had someone in tow. Recognising the back of Kirk's head, Christine frowned. She wanted nothing to do with Kirk anymore after today's little encounter, but as McCoy was a Doctor, she was duty bound to follow him. Forcing down her own fears about joining the Enterprise crew for the moment, she trotted after the two men.

"I am going to get Jim on board the Enterprise," McCoy barked over his shoulder. Guessing the official inquiry into Kirk's actions had prevented him from being assigned to serve on a ship, Christine could only dare to imagine what McCoy planned to do to ensure the other man's passage onboard the new flagship.

Following them across the hanger, they headed straight for a medical storage bay toward the far wall of the complez. Shoving his 'patient' inside, McCoy turned back to Christine. "Watch the door, and no matter what happens do not let anyone else inside whilst I'm working."

"But..."

The door swishing closed silenced Christine's protest. She had no-way of stopping McCoy, and knew she was better off not knowing what they were planning. The more she knew, the more she could get in trouble for when they were discovered. The two men were conversing inside, but too quietly for Christine to hear anything of note. Turning her back to the door, she watched in horrid slow motion as a commanding officer walked toward the medical storage bay. Of all the times someone could need medical supplies; it would have to be one when Christine was doing something to warrant a serious Court Martial.

The commanding officer stopped, obviously waiting for Christine to step aside. She didn't, instead putting her arm across the entrance to make it clear the Commander wasn't getting past her.

"Excuse me Cadet, I need to get in there."

"Uh, you can't go inside sir." She blurted.

"Why not?" His face screwed up into a mask of irritation, clearly because he had things to be getting on with and couldn't afford to waste time with such a serious situation occurring on Vulcan. "Step aside Cadet."

"You can't go in there Sir," Christine repeated, her mind churning with plausible reasons why she couldn't allow her superior officer past, "Dr. McCoy is with a patient."

"I won't disturb them." The Commander offered.

Christine shook her head. Before she could come up with a better reason why, the first thing floating on the top of her mind escaped from between her lips. "Dr. McCoy is administering medicine to his patient sir."

The Commander faltered, but quickly recovered. "Well it is only a hypospray Cadet. We've all seen those being administered to someone's neck at one time or another."

"The medication isn't being delivered via the neck sir. It requires more..._invasive _procedures."

Whilst Christine was shocked at her ability to lie so openly and easily without much incentive to do so, she couldn't deny the rewards of doing it as the Commander clearly blanched at the thought of what was going on inside the medical bay. As if they had planned it, Kirk groaned at the right moment to add weight to Christine's explanation.

The Commander's imagination had obviously taken flight at Christine's suggestion, and mumbled something about '_coming back later_' before shuffling off elsewhere.

Behind her, the door opened and both Kirk and McCoy barrelled out with the latter supporting his friend. "Good work Nurse," McCoy shouted back to her as he helped Kirk, who seemed none the wiser to Christine's presence toward the Enterprise.

Exhaling deeply, Christine ran her hands back through her hair, taking out the Starfleet regulation hair clip that kept her strawberry blonde waves under control. It fell around her face and down over her shoulders, providing her with little relief as Uhura bustled toward her again. Things had to slow down or she was done for.

"Good news, I'm assigned to the Enterprise. Let's get onboard."

Nyota wasted little time to grip Christine by the elbow and march her toward shuttle waiting to ferry them to the Enterprise. The nursing student had no chance to digest everything that had happened today, as once more she was being led by the direction of another. Still, she was becoming an expert at bottling up her emotions now. Though she felt paralysed with fear at suddenly serving on a Starship, she boxed that fear deep down inside and allowed Uhura to lead her on.

There would be time to deal with her terror at a later date. Now, she had a responsibility to the planet Vulcan. And as a Starfleet officer, her duty came above all other concerns, even if meant having a breakdown en route.

If Christine could just make it through the rescue mission, and not have any contact with James. T Kirk at all during it, she dared to hope that there'd be a chance she'd make it back to the Academy in one piece.


	4. Nurse Chapel, reporting for duty

_**A/N**__: Apologies for length of time between updates. Unfortunately, I've suffered a family bereavement this week and haven't really been in the right frame of mind to write. However, my muse woke me up early this morning, and this chapter pretty much wrote itself. Again, I've based it as much around the movie as I could, considering I'm inserting a character that wasn't in the film. However it has become necessary to take a few liberties and tweak things here and there for this to work and make sense. In the main though, everything that happens with Christine occurred when 'the scene' was elsewhere. I hope you enjoy, please continue to read and review as I love to read your thoughts and comments._

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There was definitely something to the opinion that tactile contact made an object or situation more real to a person. Christine Chapel was unintentionally testing the theory out, running the tips of her fingers along the corridor wall of the Starship Enterprise. Its smooth finish and the humming power conduit behind the wall panel sent a flush of tremors through her fingers and up her arm. Touching the wall somehow gave the ship life; and the reality that she'd been posted here was now inescapable to the young Nursing Cadet. To all intents and purposes, Christine Chapel was a serving Starfleet officer – whether she liked it or not.

Fearing a repeat performance of her panic attack back on earth, the nurse continued to walk along the corridor, dropping her hands down to her sides and holding her head high. She drew some solace for the movement, knowing that if she could just keep herself walking, she wasn't likely to collapse in a sobbing heap on the floor. Christine knew she would have to be professional now, as the medical team would rely on her to act appropriately at all times as a nurse. It wouldn't do to be collapsing into the corner every five seconds, or sticking hyposprays full of sedatives into her arm at any opportunity. She was a nurse now, and people were going to rely on her to ensure their health was the best it could possibly be whilst serving on board. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the pace of her walk as she headed to the turbolift.

_I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._

The shuttle taking the Cadets from the Academy building to the Enterprise had arrived minutes earlier. The journey hadn't been without issue; James Kirk had gone from looking ill to positively deathly by the time they'd left Earth's atmosphere. As a medical student, she was duty bound to help Doctor McCoy if he required her assistance. In all honestly, she could probably make a case that the Doctor was involving her in activities that could potentially lead to a Court Martial and thus refuse to aid him. But her vow to do no harm as a nurse took precedence over concerns for her career. And if she was being completely honest, despite her newfound dislike of Kirk, it made her feel more uncomfortable than normal to see him suffering. Why she couldn't refuse a man like that spoke volumes about her taste in men, much to her own chagrin. However, that didn't mean she was about to do aid Doctor McCoy with good grace.

Thankfully the fates weren't totally against Christine today, as McCoy seemed to have the situation under control during the flight to the ship, and didn't call on her once during the journey. Unfortunately, that left Christine to her thoughts and that was never a good way for her to be. The moment the shuttle docked, the strawberry blonde had slipped off as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible. Now she was on her way to the medical bay where she was due to report to Doctor Puri, the Chief Medical Officer on board the Enterprise, and hopefully as far away from the schemes of James T. Kirk as she could be.

Stepping inside the turbolift, two male officers she wasn't familiar with stepped aside to allow her room in the carriage. Christine walked between them, moving so she could stand against the back wall of the carriage and behind the other officers. As was customary for Christine, she automatically dipped her head, readjusting the fringe of her hair to obscure her eyes from view. Even the way she held herself was an attempt to make her appear smaller, to be out of sight from her male colleagues. A more observant person would have noticed that the young woman clearly wasn't as comfortable in the company of unfamiliar males as everyone else, but that seemed to have slipped beyond her colleagues notice. What Christine anticipated could happen was probably as close to impossible as one could get, but that didn't stop the nurse from folding her arms protectively across her stomach as though she were trying to shield herself.

Perhaps trying to be friendly to the timid Cadet, one of the male Ensigns in the lift turned over his shoulder to face Christine, offering her a warm smile. With colour flushing her cheeks, Christine half-smiled and turned her head to the side in an effort to avoid eye contact. It was almost instinct for Christine to shy away from men, and she found herself desperately wanting for the turbolift to reach the correct deck where she could escape the gaze of the male officer in front of her.

Someone apparently _was_ on her side today, as the lift came to a halt soon after. The doors swished open and the nurse practically ran between the officers to get out of the carriage. With her heart pounding in her chest, Christine slowed her speed and fell back into a walk as she headed to the medical bay.

Inside, the bay was a hive of activity. Several cadets Christine recognised were busily running around, shifting medical supplies, dealing with crew members ailments and performing the usual routine physical examinations. Christine recognised Doctor Puri by reputation and immediately made her way over. He was a kindly older gentleman, with a bird's nest of white hair haloing his head. Hooded lids hid bright grey eyes that missed nothing, and he spotted Christine's entrance even before she had made her way over to him.

"Excuse me Doctor Puri," she began, standing at his side as the Doctor organised a tray of medical implements in neat lines, "nursing Cadet Christine Chapel, reporting for duty sir."

The Chief Medical Officer grinned at Christine. "Ah, Nurse Chapel. Forgive the cliché, but I've been expecting you." From his pocket, the Doctor produced an electronic data pad. His thumb pushed several control keys, lighting up the screen with information. "Now, let me see. Ah yes, here you are. Chapel, Christine. Born in New Orleans in 2240 to parents who both worked as accountants. Attended Archer High School, graduating with perfect grades in all Sciences, including applied bio-chemistry. And when you were only sixteen years old. Very impressive my dear." The elderly Doctor winked over the edge of the pad. "Began a degree the same year in Bio-research, before switching to a career in Starfleet and settling into the main nursing programme in San Francisco. Did I miss anything?"

Christine shook her head. He had pretty much summed up her entire life in thirty seconds. Despite everything she had achieved by the age of eighteen, somehow it now sounded insignificant to be described by him.

"Good. Now that that's out of the way," with a grin, Puri tossed the date report over his shoulder where it clattered to the floor next to one of the beds, "I can welcome you to the Enterprise." Christine blinked in surprise, not sure how to take the Doctor's eccentric behaviour. The older man realised this and smirked broadly. "I'm a Doctor, not a computer technician. I don't believe a data report can tell me who you are as a person. And as I deal with people every day, I take them as I find them. I've heard a lot about you from your instructors, and I know you'll be a perfect fit to the medical staff. I'm glad to have you on my team my dear. I hope you're looking forward to your posting here, I can guarantee there will never be a dull moment on board!" He chuckled, exposing a toothy grin of crooked teeth. His laugh was warming and infectious, and Christine couldn't suppress her own smile. "Doctor Marsden tells me you have a real aptitude for the identification of viral diseases and their treatments. In fact, he thinks you'll make a wonderful Doctor yourself, if you chose to pursue that route. Has it ever appealed to you?"

"I've never really thought about it," Christine lied. It shocked her confidently she could do it, the untruths just tumbling over her lips as careless as they pleased. When had she become such a hardened liar? "I always knew I wanted to care for people, and being a Nurse seemed the best way to do that."

"There's nothing wrong with that my dear. And I'm certain you'll make a wonderful nurse too." The Doctor added a knowing smile. "But it doesn't hurt to keep your options open, either. I'd gladly support you if you ever decided you want to pursue a medical degree. If one did take stock in such things as academic reports," Puri glanced over to where date pad lay untouched, "they might question which you switched from bio-research in the first place."

Christine shuffled her feet uncomfortably, and Puri quickly continued, knowing he wasn't just hitting a nerve but taking a laser-scalpel to it. "But as I said, it doesn't interest me. As long as you work hard and fulfil the role, you'll get on fine."

She opened her mouth to thank the Doctor for his support, but the sound died in her throat as Leonard McCoy crashed through the doors with James Kirk hanging over his shoulder. He looked even worse than before, and Christine instantly felt for the command Cadet. Shaking her head for being foolish, she tried to conveniently slip into the background, but McCoy spotted her first.

"Nurse Chapel, get me some Diazepam for the patient!"

With an apologetic look to Doctor Puri, who looked highly amused, Christine moved into action. Grabbing a hypospray, she moved over to where the vials of medication were kept. Picking up the clear sedative, she slotted it into the silver hand-held device and headed over to McCoy. She risked looking toward Kirk, who looked terrible. Whatever McCoy had infected him with was clearly affecting him in a serious way as he looked ready to drop at any moment. It could be her nursing instinct, or even her slight attraction to Kirk, but Christine wanted to go to him and do whatever it took to make him feel better.

_Get a grip Chapel, _Christine frowned as her inner voice scalded her_. He's got plenty of girls waiting to make him feel better. Just do your job and keep your distance. You know what happens when you get involved with men with more ego than good sense._

She handed the sedative to the Doctor, and heard Kirk yelp as the drug was delivered. He began a sentence, but was unable to finish it as he simply dropped back into a deep slumber. McCoy seemed relieved, and Christine heard Puri chuckling to himself as he moved through the bay toward another patient.

"Thank you nurse. Would you do me a favour?" McCoy caught her gently by the elbow, and all at once Christine knew she was going to be stuck with Kirk. So much for keeping her distance.

"Of course Doctor. What do you need?" She answered fearfully.

McCoy smiled wryly. "Would you hook Cadet Kirk up to the heart monitor and take his vitals? Then could keep an eye on him? He's got a nasty infection at the moment; I want to keep any eye on him whilst he's under the affects of the sedative. I'll need to prepare a more effective vaccine to the problem, and need someone I trust watching him so I can focus."

With the doctor laying compliments on thicker than wet concrete, she knew she was powerless to resist. "No problem." Nodding her head, Christine moved passed McCoy to Kirk's bed. The sedative had taken the action out of the Cadet, although by the looks of things he wasn't entirely out. He must have the constitution of a warhorse, as there had been enough sedative to knock a man twice his size out cold. Frowning, Christine considered pumping more Diazepam into Kirk, but decided against it.

The way he had collapsed onto the bed had left him lying at an awkward angle. One leg hung off the bed, as did his arms. Huffing, Christine pretended it was her Obsessive Compulsive tendencies forcing her to make it right. Deep down she knew it was more a desire to make the handsome command cadet more comfortable.

Reaching down for the leg, she lifted it up onto the bed, pretending that the firm thigh muscles beneath her palms were something other than delicious. Straightening his arms at his side, Christine took a moment to study James Kirk. How could the man look that irresistible when he was unconscious and filled with a virus? She felt guilty for being attracted to patient and a total idiot because that patient was James Kirk. If possible, his face looked even more appealing now that he was completely out of it. Every now and again, his lips would twitch and the sound of half a word would come somewhere from in his throat. Pressing the back of her hand against his forehead, Christine winced as she felt the obvious burning temperature he had. He was clearly very ill, and she wondered if making himself suffer in this way was worth getting on board the Enterprise.

Unable to help herself, Christine ran the tips of her fingers over Kirk's short fringe. It was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead. Brushing it back from his face the nurse suddenly found herself stroking Kirk's face gently, and he groaned softly in a pleased response. Running the back of her fingers down over the line of his cheek and jaw, she blushed as Kirk turned his face into the contact, the hint of a smile at his oblivious mouth. Her thumb circled over his high cheekbone, before sliding over his clean shaven cheek. Licking her own lips, Christine traced the soft mounds of his. Just as she'd imagined, they were impossibly soft and full as they dipped slightly under the pressure of her fingers. She wanted to experience that softness fully, with his mouth pressed against her, kissing until her lips burned.

Instantly she withdrew her hand as though his mouth had burned her. What the hell was she _doing_? Practically assaulting a patient as they lay in a sedative-induced sleep? This wasn't her at all. Christine Chapel was a perfect student and a talented nurse. She was not a crazed, obsessive borderline pervert! Obviously, this change in her behaviour had to be the fault of Kirk. How dare he confuse her into acting inappropriately? Just as Christine re-avowed to stay as far away from Kirk as much the Enterprise would allow, the touch of his hand to hers snapped her back to the moment.

Even those his eyes were closed, his arm had slipped off the bed and his fingers had reached for hers. He held her hand gently and pulled it back to his face. He held her palm against his cheek, his face tilted to that the entirety of his cheek were covered by her cool skin. He moved the limb slightly, and just as the tips of her fingers reached his mouth once more, his serene blue eyes fluttered open again. Holding her gaze, Kirk pursed his lips a little, kissing the tips of Christine's fingers. Molten heat flooded like a river through her body, gushing to every inch of her body. Kirk planted gentle kisses on the tips of her fingers before pulling her hand away from his mouth. His eyes were hazy, probably more from the illness than the moment, and he still had hold of Christine's hand. If she were being rational, Christine would reason that Kirk was not in command of his usual faculties and probably didn't realise what he was doing, nor would he remember it later. But that didn't stop Christine from almost losing her legs from underneath her again. And more importantly, she couldn't bring herself to tell Kirk to stop; even though she knew what was occurring between them went against everything she'd learned in her training.

"Didn't mean...that I've been...with loads...of cadets in _that_ way." Chapel winced, both at the rasp of his voice and the words that she managed to make out. The disease had gone to his throat apparently as his voice had lost its usual deep timbre and he been replaced with a dry scratch. "I... teach self-defence at the Academy. Meet...lots of...people. Hard to remember...names. Didn't want you...to have wrong idea...about me..."

Christine felt her face flush with embarrassed colour. Not only had she completely gotten the wrong idea, but Kirk had struggled to explain despite his condition despite clearly feeling terrible. Guilt hammered her consciousness mercilessly, and she quickly clasped his hand between both of hers. "Don't worry about that now. I'll get you something for your throat."

Kirk nodded, his eyes falling closed as he let go of her hand. Christine rushed from his bedside, reaching for another hypospray and a vile of medication. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to fit the thin glass tube into the dispenser with trembling hands. Maybe James Kirk wasn't as bad as she'd allowed herself to belief. And even if he was a bit of a player, he wasn't exactly the only twenty-something to be enjoying themselves while they could. She wondered what it meant that Kirk had been concerned about her opinion of him. Surely it should not matter to her if he struggled so hard to set her thoughts right, but in reality she was secretly touched by it. Finally getting the hypospray prepared, she returned to his bed where his face was screwed up in pain.

Her stomach churned with a need to make him feel alright. With her free hand, Christine gently placed it on his throat. Just from a physical examination she could feel the swelling. Positioning the device at the pulse point of his neck, she hit the release mechanism that infused his bloodstream with a drug that would hopefully reduce the swelling. Stroking his brow softly, she leaned closer to him, lowering her voice to speak in a comforting tone as she took his hand in hers again. "Relax James. Your throat will feel better in a moment, I promise."

He nodded, eyes closed and a pained expression on his chiselled, handsome features. With one hand still in Kirk's, Christine reached over to tap in a set of instructions to the monitor that hung over his bed. It flared to life, automatically running a set of scans on Kirk and his health. An image of a human body outlined in yellow appeared on the screen which she focused on. In a second, Christine knew Kirk wasn't well. His temperature had soared higher than was really acceptable. Even worse, his heart was working too fast. It was pounding like the cadet was in a full blown sprint which shouldn't be if he was resting on the bed. He wasn't looking terribly good either, and Christine knew McCoy needed to be informed of the situation. "I'll get the doctor. I'll be right back."

"Stay. Please."

With his hand holding pathetically tight to hers, Christine waged an inner war. Every wall she had ever built around her emotions to keep herself safe from men like Kirk, and more importantly to be a professional seemed useless whilst he was around her. He appealed to her on such a basic level that Christine was beginning to think that she'd never be safe in his company. However she knew he needed real care from a real doctor, and her professional judgement won out.

"I'll only be across the room." With a squeeze of his hand, she tried to extract herself from his weak grip. Kirk seemed reluctant to let go of her hand, even though he continued to doze under the influence of the sedative. He finally let go however, and Christine quickly scurried across the medical bay to where McCoy was so she could get back to Kirk's side all the quicker.

McCoy looked busy in the laboratory section of the medical bay. Whilst he'd left Kirk to Christine's care, he'd been preparing a more potent vaccine based on the severity of Kirk's symptoms.

"Doctor McCoy," she began, "Cadet Kirk isn't doing too well. I've given him a dose of anti-inflammatory because his throat had started to swell because of the infection. However, based on my physical assessment and the preliminary scans, he seems to be deteriorating. I think you should take a look at him."

McCoy grunted. "Damn Starfleet and their antiquated tribunals. If they had any sense, they would have waived his suspension until this Vulcan mess was over with. We need men like Kirk on this mission, and I have to resort to infecting him with a nasty disease just to get him where he needs to be. I'm a physician, not an espionage specialist. It's barbaric!"

Christine smirked at the doctor analogy, hearing Puri saying something similar earlier. "What can I do Doctor?"

"Don't worry Nurse Chapel; I've already involved you in this far too much. I'll get another cadet to help me from here." McCoy turned to face her seriously, an exasperated expression on his face. Christine was no psychologist, but if her people skills were anything to make a judgement on, she would guess he felt guilty for a lot at the moment. Whether it was guilt for infecting Kirk, getting Christine involved in the first place or a mixture of the two, she really couldn't say. "I'll tell Puri how diligently you assisted me in Kirk's care, only I'd be grateful if you didn't mention how he contracted the illness in the first place."

She shook her head. "I won't say anything Doctor, don't worry." McCoy breathed a sigh of relief. "But I'd still like to assist you in the cadet's care, if you'll let me?"

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position." McCoy loaded another hypospray with a created concoction for Kirk's treatment, keeping one eye on Christine. He was clearly intrigued now, wondering why Christine would willingly put herself in a knowingly difficult position.

"You wouldn't. It would be an opportunity for me to study the treatment of acute viral infection in a human patient in space. Besides, I'd rather save you the stress of avoiding explaining to another nurse why Cadet Kirk is ill, so you can get on with making him better."

McCoy smiled knowingly. He partly guessed why Christine wanted to see Kirk get better, but knew better than to make a comment on it. "I'd be happy to give you that opportunity Nurse. Now, let's see to curing another patient, shall we?" Looking past Christine, McCoy's face fell. Across the medical bay, he could see Kirk sat up in bed. In reality, the he had partially heard the broadcast of Chekhov informing the ship of the 'lightning storm' seen near Vulcan and was trying to will himself into doing something about it. "Damn hot-headed fool!"

Taking off into a jog, McCoy rushed to Kirk's beside, wielding the hypospray full of vaccine. Christine moved to follow, but he stopped her with a barked command. "Chapel, make me up some more of the vaccine! It's all there on the surface. Only increase the dosage of the muscle relaxant!"

Frowning, Christine halted and turned back to the laboratory section of the medical bay. McCoy had indeed left all the components out, along with a formula on the data pad nearby. She quickly set to work, deftly making up another batch enough for ten men. She partly wondered why McCoy had told her to do this, as normally nurses weren't responsible for making up vaccines in this way. Was it pure luck that McCoy had asked her to do it, or did he know more about her academic past in bio-research that gave her an insight into vaccines that rivalled most Doctors? It wasn't important at that moment however, and Christine snapped another vile into yet another hypospray.

Turning around to face the medical bay, she moved in time to see Kirk making a run towards and out through the door. The distressed looking McCoy was already chasing after him, glancing in her direction as he moved toward the door. "Chapel! Follow us! And get a stronger sedative from the medical storage bay! The patient is not co-operating and we need to keep him stationary for his own sake!"

Nodding, Christine broke into a run and headed out the door. McCoy had turned left and was chasing after the retreating figure of Kirk. Sending a concerned glance toward both men, Christine turned on her heel and sprinted to the right to where the medical storage bay was located. She was surprised at the depth of her longing to go straight after Kirk, but mentally stored it away somewhere when she could deal with it later. McCoy was relying on her to be professional and follow his orders, and she would not let him down. Something told her that this could be the beginnings of a successful professional relationship if she performed well today.

Besides which, Kirk needed to be slowed down and Christine would do whatever it took to make sure he did so. With deep felt sigh, she hit the security code on the panel to the side of the storage bay door and headed inside. Heading into the stacks, she quickly located a stronger combination muscle relaxant and sedative than the type they kept in the medical bay. It should easily have been enough to keep Kirk down. It seemed ridiculous that barely an hour into her first round of service in Starfleet and she was already reaching for the harder medication for a member of the crew. It seemed that so far, Doctor Puri had been right; there had not been a dull moment in the short time that she'd been on board.

And if Christine's instincts were right, before this mission was over, with there would be plenty worse to come her way.


	5. Transmissions and tumbles

_**A/N**__: Another update for your reading pleasure. Again, just tweaking things to fit Christine in. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and that you review. I really love to know what you think of it. And thank you to everyone for your kind words regarding my family bereavement, it was much appreciated. _

_I disclaim! If you're readin', get to reviewin' !!_

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With a collection of hyposprays in hand, Christine marched down the hallway. Cadets, junior officers and one or two more experienced crew members flitted around her in a state of near agitation. She'd often observed during her training sessions at the Academy that as soon as a ship hit warp speed, the officers on board seemed to do the same below decks. They ran and jogged and marched around like the safety of the entire federation rested on their ability to reach their destination on time. Christine couldn't understand the need for their grave expressions, nor their charging around the corridors. Unless she'd missed something, the ship was only reporting to Vulcan to investigate why the planet had sent out a distress call. Why everyone needed to assume the worst and turned into a gaggle of headless chickens squawking around was beyond her. Why panic when you had no facts? You may as well continue your usual job until you were given a reason to be anxious. And everyone knew out in space, reasons to panic were plenty and came thick and fast.

Twisting her body to the side, Christine slipped between two engineering staff as they sprinted past her down the hallway. The Enterprise was at warp speed; as evidenced by the stars streaking past them and the almost imperceptible motion of the craft. Engineering Cadets had often argued the point with Christine; that once the Inertial Dampeners were engaged there was no possible way anyone could tell that they were moving faster than light. That may have been so, but Christine was convinced she could feel a subtle difference when they were moving so quickly. It was almost like knowing you were about to feel nauseous, and the sensation hung vaguely on the reach of your senses but never came close enough for you to feel it. Regardless, Christine didn't have to be on the bridge to know they were on their way to Vulcan at a high warp.

She assumed the reason the engineers were dashing around was because they had to work harder when the ship moved so quickly. Medical work might be tough, but Christine didn't think she could deal with the pressure on an engineer. Life and death may be held in the palms of a physician, but one slight miscalculation by an engineer would lead to everyone on board the Enterprise being dead in an instant.

Punching a command into the wall panel, a diagram of the ship blinked to life. Using the internal sensors, Christine immediately tracked Doctor McCoy and Cadet Kirk. They were two decks above her, although in truth the nurse wasn't familiar with the layout of the Enterprise. She had no clue what was further down this corridor, let alone two decks above her. Christine's induction to the Enterprise had been limited to the shuttle and medical bays. She hadn't seen her own quarters yet, and that would have to wait. Heading to the nearest turbolift, she walked inside and was immediately propelled upward.

The deck was even more alive with activity than the one before it as the doors parted before the nurse. A sea of red Cadet uniforms twisted and writhed around her and was clearly alive with activity. Finding Kirk and McCoy was apparently going to be more difficult than before.

Slipping through the crowd, Christine moved to a bulkhead and tried to use it to get a handle on her bearings. Standing on the tips of her toes, she noticed a familiar face in the sea of crimson; Uhura. The communications Cadet looked puzzled, and was obviously trying to decide on something that was troubling her. Fighting her way through the worker ant like Cadets, Christine finally reached her friend.

"Uhura! What is with the crazy Cadets? Did I miss a bulletin or something? Should I be concerned?" She called to her friend. Uhura turned and smiled as she recognised the nurse. "Have you seen McCoy or James Kirk? The computer said they were on this deck, but I can't see them in this swarm."

"I think the native are restless," Uhura nodded to the bodies shuffling around them, "first mission on board and everything. They want to create a good impression. McCoy and that other creature was here," Uhura nodded, eyeing the hypos with interest, "but they've gone to the bridge."

"The bridge?" Christine repeated, her features creased into a frown. "Why have they gone there?"

"Because he's an attention seeker?" Scoffing, Uhura glanced in the direction which Kirk and McCoy had gone. "Farm boy was blabbering about the lightning storm phenomena they picked up near Vulcan being a trick. He wanted to know about the transmission I decoded a few days ago. You remember, the one about the massive Romulan ship cutting forty seven Klingon ships to ribbons near their prison planet. How that has anything to do with what's going on Vulcan, I don't know. But they're probably explaining to Captain Pike now."

"Well I need to catch up," Christine admitted, already moving toward the turbolift. Uhura fell into step with her, making her decision to follow Kirk and McCoy. "Doctor McCoy needs these vaccines for James, he's in a pretty bad way."

"For_ James_? My goodness, Nurse Chapel. You're on a first name basis with someone already? Has the world stopped spinning? I'd never thought I'd see the day!" Christine frowned at Nyota. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're referring to a guy by something other than his rank. But does it have to be the farm boy? You know that man is not interested in something unless it's on all fours, right? Wait, Christine. Don't tell me he's had you on..."

"Finish that sentence and I'll pump you so full of sedative you'll still be unconscious come graduation." Her blue eyes narrowed softly, Chapel dared her friend to carry on with her rather suggestive train of though.

Her friend mimed zipping her mouth shut. "I did happen to see the state _James_ was in." Uhura couldn't suppress the smile on her face as they stepped inside the turbolift. "His hands swelled up to the size of grapefruits, and then his tongue went numb. It was the funniest thing I think I've ever seen."

"Be nice," Christine mock chastised as she pressed a button to send them and the lift carriage to the top deck. Inwardly her concern for Kirk made her stomach churn so much that she almost felt sick, but outwardly she remained as impassive as she could. "He's unwell."

"That _was_ me being nice." With a smirk on her face, Uhura considered all the ways she could be unkind about the Kirk. She really wanted to tell Christine to stay as far away from the command Cadet as she possibly could, but it would do no good. Christine was head strong, and when she made up her mind about something, there would be no changing it. Uhura only hoped Kirk wouldn't have the chance to hurt Christine like Roger had.

Uhura blinked suddenly as a memory resurfaced completely by itself. In the entire bustle with Kirk and Doctor McCoy, she'd forgotten. "Oh, I almost forgot. I received a transmission for you earlier. It was redirected by the Academy personnel." Arching an eyebrow, Christine watched as Uhura produced a small data stick from a pocket in her uniform. She wondered who would be sending a transmission to her now. It couldn't be her parents, she'd spoken to them a little under a week ago. Although, there really wasn't anyone else who would have the need to contact her. Most of her friends from the Academy were on the Enterprise anyway, and the others she'd see again within days. Who would be sending her messages across space?

"Part of protocol is for the receiver of the transmission to note down the date, origin and author the message...so I had to see who'd sent it to you." Uhura looked uncomfortable, twisting the data stick in her hand. "But I didn't read any of the message. As soon as I saw who it was who'd sent it, I just saved it and kept it for you."

"Nyota, it's okay." Christine smiled now, amused at her friend's almost nervous behaviour. "I know the communications protocol well enough. It's your job to do all that. And I can't imagine it being anything I'd mind you reading. I'd probably only end up telling you all about it anyway. Where did it come from?"

"Christine," Uhura began, pressing the data stick into her friend's open hand, "the communication is from Roger. He sent it to the Academy because he thought you were still there. You weren't, and it was automatically forwarded to the Enterprise whilst we were still in communications range. I wasn't sure whether or not you'd want to read it whilst we were on the mission. I even thought of stashing it until we got back to Earth, but I know you'd rather have the choice of reading it yourself."

Christine barely heard a single word Nyota spoke. At the mention of Roger's name, her blood ran colder than an arctic river, freezing her in place and closing off her mind to everything but the image of Roger. His beautiful smile and laughing eyes polluted her vision so much that Christine had to steady herself against the wall. A thousand questions ran through her mind, none of them pleasant and Christine wasn't sure if she wanted the answers to any single one of them. It had been years since she'd last seen Roger, and they hadn't spoken in just as long. As far as Christine had understood during their last exchange, they were never going to see one another again. So why he would have any reason to contact her now both astounded and terrified her. If James Kirk had barrelled through any walls she had built to protect her heart from feeling, the mention of Roger made her realise they'd been useless in the first place.

Had she been lying to herself when she said she'd gotten over him? If knowing he tried to get into contact with her put her into such a spin, obviously she couldn't have. Some secret part of Christine wondered if really she'd just been waiting for him to get back in contact all along. But that couldn't be true, could it? She was a smart, hard working and independent woman. Why would she rely on the attention of a man she'd worked so hard to get over to make her feel happy? It wasn't as if Roger did anything other than reduce her to the verge of tears. Obviously she had to be as pathetic as she feared if that were true. Most women, if put through what she'd had to endure would have tossed the data stick out of the nearest airlock.

It wasn't fair! Christine didn't feel like she deserved this. And why did it have to be now? As if it wasn't bad enough that she was being propelled into space to deal with a potentially planet threatening crisis, she was dealing with a simmering attraction to a brash and over confident command Cadet. Now Roger had to force himself back into her life? Why now? And most of all, why couldn't he just leave her alone to be miserable in peace?

Christine wanted nothing more than to plug the data stick into the nearest receiver and see what Roger had to say for himself. Just imagining reading his words, she could hear his rich voice in her head; the way he sent her senses into overdrive by the way he said her name. No one made her feel as alive and unsure of herself as Roger did. He was like a drug to Christine, and the longer she stayed away from it, the deeper the craving went until she could get her fix.

Slapping her hand against the wall of the turbolift, Christine squeezed the data stick in her hand. With her head lowered, she couldn't bring herself to meet Uhura's eyes. She feared that if she caught her friend's glance, Nyota would instantly read in her own eyes what she was feeling. Pretending that they weren't tears that clouded her vision, Christine pressed the stick into the pocket of her uniform. It seemed to happen too slowly, and denying her last connection to Roger felt like severing off her own arm. But it had to be done. If nothing else, Christine desperately needed to feel like she wasn't the pitiful walkover that she felt she was. With the stick safely tucked away, she inhaled slowly, before raising her head again.

At the same moment that she caught Uhura's eyes, the doors to the turbolift swished open, revealing the bridge on the other side. Christine was vaguely aware of the officers on the bridge, but couldn't take her eyes away from Uhura. Her friend looked angry, disappointed and sad at the same time, and Christine knew why. Forced to turn away again, she waited until Uhura left the carriage before she remembered to breathe again. Letting oxygen slip in and out of her lungs, Christine looked up.

Uhura had already been drawn into whatever conversation Kirk, Spock and Pike were having. Bits and pieces of their conversation came to her, although it was like trying to listen from underwater as a range of emotions weighed heavily upon her. She was sure she heard something about coming out of warp, and decided she'd spent long enough lurking into the turbolift.

Stepping out onto the bridge, the viewscreen caught her eye as it polarized. The second they came out of warp, Christine felt a real sense of horror. Directly ahead was the graveyard of the Cadet fleet, the several ships that had arrived at Vulcan ahead of the Enterprise destroyed, dismembered and ruined by something terribly powerful. This new surge of emotion effectively drowned everything else Christine had been feeling, and she was grateful for it, despite the morbid take on the moment. It allowed her to focus on the mission at hand, which was preferable to dealing with a message from Roger.

The fleet was gone, and she could only imagine what kind of force would have the power to destroy Starfleet vessels like that. Glancing over to Kirk, he looked a lot better with healthy colour in his cheeks. His beautiful eyes were cold and hard, focused on the carnage on the viewscreen. Pike commanded the helmsman to steer the ship out of the way of an incoming piece of another vessel. The officer did as commanded, and the Enterprise dipped. However, either the timing or steering of the starship was slightly askew as the broken piece of hull scrapped along one of the ships' warp nacelles. The impact was felt through the entire ship, a deep shaking that even the Inertial Dampeners could not rectify. Most of the bridge crew were lucky enough to be sat at a station to brace themselves. Christine was not. The shuddering upset her sense of balance and she stumbled forward. The hyposprays flew from her hands in a myriad of directions as she fell toward the barrier that sectioned off the lowered part of the bridge. She would have collapsed against it painfully, if it were not for the strong arms of James Kirk that caught her just in time.

His muscled arms were around her in a second, wrapping her in a protective shield of his warm, hard body. His biceps pressed against her bare arms, and the rounded bulge they formed as he bent his elbows to hold Christine sent an electrifying shiver through her. "I've got you," he whispered into her hair, his voice husky and precise. "Hold on while we ride this out."

Her breath caught somewhere between her throat and her chest, Christine couldn't do or say anything. Even the macabre scene of a graveyard of Starfleet vessels on the viewscreen did not reach her. All she could feel was the broad, firm frame of Kirk's body, softened by his black shirt as he held her in his arm. Her own arms were caught against her chest, pinned against her by one of Kirk's biceps. She seemed to fit almost too perfectly against him, her head resting against his wide chest as his chin hovered just above the top of her strawberry blonde head. His hands held her both between her shoulders and at her hip, the feel of his skin burning through her uniform to her own flesh below. How she wanted to feel his hands against her bare skin, but tried to break free of the thought whilst they were in a hazardous situation.

Just being this close to him, when Christine remembered to breathe again she was rewarded with a heady inhale of James Kirk. He smelled warm and so totally masculine that the nurse felt as though she was melting on the spot.

"James..." Christine hadn't realised she had spoken until Kirk's hands flinched against her body. It was then that she recognised the low, needful tone to her voice that she'd never head in herself before. Her pink lips parted in shock at her own behaviour, and the shuddering of the ship finally ended as the Enterprise moved away from the chunk of debris.

Carefully, Kirk turned Christine in his arms so that they were facing each other. Lifting a hand to her face, he cupped her chin gently in his palm. "Are you alright?"

His tone was so sincere, so genuine and full of feeling that Christine felt she might burst into tears on the spot. She was totally malleable in his hands as Kirk walked her toward an empty science station. Gently, he lowered her into the seat, and replaced his hand on her face. His blue eyes scanned her face intently, and he leaned his head forward in such a way that Christine thought he might kiss her. Without meaning to, she found herself leaning forward in her own seat, tilting her head up to meet his lips with her own.

Apparently Kirk was satisfied with what he saw as he pulled back and moved toward Pike and Spock. It looked like an effort to tear his heated gaze away from her face, but he finally managed it to focus on the situation. As the three men became engrossed in conversation, Christine pressed the back of her hand against her cheek where his hand had been moments before. Her skin positively vibrated with the feeling of his hand against her cheek, and the burning in her face made it obvious to Christine that she was blushing furiously.

So focused on herself and what Kirk had done to her, Christine missed the raised voices warning that a volley of torpedoes were headed their way. The impact was the first she knew. The ship bucked and vaulted violently beneath her as the weapons tore through their shields and gutted the Enterprise. Missing the opportunity to grab the chair for support, Christine found herself thrown from her seat, propelled forward onto the hard floor courtesy of the tremors. Managing to twist her body, she absorbed as much of the impact with her shoulder and back as she could, and rolled a few times before coming to a stop. A spike of pain cut into her back, but it didn't feel serious.

Kirk was at her side instantly, effortlessly navigating the shaking floor to get to Christine. Leaning down he gently scooped her up into a seated position, resting her back against a bulkhead. His hands were in her hair which had fallen loose on impact, and she could feel his exploring fingers through the waves of her mane of golden red hair. His touch was gentle but certain on her head, and she realised that he was checking her out for head injuries. Satisfied he found none, he smiled a devastating smile.

"You have to stop throwing yourself at my feet Cadet," his tone was joking, despite the grave situation. His hands moved from her head to rest on her shoulders. "Or else I'll get the impression that you like being around me."

Finding a strange kind of bravery in the moment, Christine tilted her head up to meet him head on. "And maybe you're just in the right place at the right time." Getting to her feet, she remained squatted at the right height so that her face was just an inch or so from his. She loved how his breath hitched as she got so close, and she definitely wasn't oblivious to slight pink tinge his cheeks took. "Everyone's luck runs out sooner or later, James."

Her last words were spoken so quietly that only he could have heard her. The way his eyes widened and came to life made Christine shiver with anticipation. She was never like this normally. She was the shy and awkward girl who couldn't bare the attention of men because it made her so nervous. And yet something about the cocky, assured attitude that Kirk exuded shocked to life a side of herself that she hadn't known was there. And the more it came out, the more Christine loved it. Perhaps it was because she was tired of being pushed around by everyone else that she revelled in her flashes of confidence. Or maybe the stress of being posted on board a Starship was leading her into some hysterical psychosis. Whatever the reason, Christine was determined to embrace it.

James looked like he was ready to answer her, when the face of a threatening Romulan appeared on the viewscreen. Much like Christine, Kirk knew when duty was more important that personal pursuits and was at Pike's side immediately. Now that his attention was off her, Christine let herself pant like she'd been dying to. Staying low down, she was out of view of the main bridge officers as she began scooping up her dropped hyposprays. The Romulan was demanding that Pike come aboard his ship to discuss negotiation terms, and she felt it was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. Luckily, as soon as the transmission was terminated, Kirk and Spock launched into their own agreement that it was a mistake for Pike to board the Romulan vessel.

Reaching for the last hypospray, Christine was beaten to it by McCoy who handed the silver device to her. "With me please Nurse."

Christine nodded, and got back to her feet and followed everyone into the turbolift. She deliberately moved to the other side of the carriage so that she was away from Kirk. Whilst he didn't seem to notice her presence, she doubted she could be anything resembling intelligent for a second time today. They lead the way out of the lift and she followed, walking at a slightly faster pace to keep up with their longer strides. Christine caught the end of the conversation between Kirk, Pike and Spock as they discussed the mission at hand. Pike was going aboard the Romulan vessel, Spock was in command and Kirk along with the Helmsman Sulu and Chief Engineer Olsen were going down to Vulcan to disrupt whatever the Romulans were doing to the planet's surface.

McCoy leaned over to Chapel, his voice a hushed whisper so as to not disturb the commanding officers as they discussed the actions to be taken. "We're going to need to prep them for Vulcan's surface. If they dive from the shuttle, they'll need something for rapid altitude descent, not to mention Vulcan's higher gravity and thinner atmosphere. They'll need to be able to cope with terrain if they're going to succeed. Damn Romulan ghouls, they won't be happy until everyone is a sour faced they are."

Christine bit back a chuckle as Pike was dismissing the officers and heading to the shuttle bay to prepare for their departure. Spock looked as perplexed as a logical Vulcan could, although seemed intent on carrying out Pike's orders. Now everyone deferred to McCoy as he discussed what would need to be done.

"Alright, listen up gentleman." His gruff tone bellied his considerably kind bedside manner, although he knew this wasn't the time for small talk. "We need to get you prepared for your trip to Vulcan. Even if you wear suits to protect you from space and Vulcan's atmosphere, we can't take the risk that you won't lose your helmets and be subjected to the atmosphere. And that's not forgetting a suicide leap from a moving shuttle."

Spock nodded his agreement. "What do you propose Doctor McCoy?"

"We'll need to get started straight away. Something for the dive and the conditions on Vulcan too. Sulu, you and Olsen are with me." McCoy looked from Kirk to Christine. "He's all yours."

With a sardonic look, McCoy turned on his heel and marched off in the direction that Pike had taken. Arching an eyebrow, Spock headed off in the opposite direction, leaving Christine alone with Kirk. His smile seemed to reflect his knowledge of the fact as well, and he tilted his head to the side.

"Where do you want me Nurse?" The suggestive tone wasn't lost on Christine, but she pretended not to be affected by it, for all the good it would do.

"There's an emergency medical section on the shuttle bay deck, I think." There tended to be provision on those decks to her knowledge, anyway. "We can go there to get you prepared if you like."

Kirk only nodded, moving to walk past Christine. He stopped next to her, and placed his hand on her hip. He lowered his head to her ear, his lips barely caressing it as he spoke. "Be gentle with me, won't you?"

Christine managed to wait until Kirk had walked beyond her before she allowed herself to shiver. Taking a deep breath, she tried to focus herself as she headed after him. If she didn't know better, Christine would say McCoy left Kirk with her on purpose. Well that was fine; she could deal with a flirtatious Cadet, even one as handsome as James Tiberius Kirk. Christine kept telling herself that all the way to the turbolift, terrified of what would happen when she was truly alone with him.

And in the midst of it all, Christine hadn't even realised she'd completely forgotten about Roger's message. Whatever the message was, it would have to wait. Right now Christine would have to survive being alone with Cadet James Kirk.


	6. Close quarters

_**A/N**_: _Another update for your reading pleasure. I was truly blown away by the amount of reviews I had for my last chapter, and I am so grateful to every single one of you that take the time to post your feedback. It really does mean a lot. So, keep reviewing guys! I disclaim!_

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Christine stood in the middle of the emergency medical bay, contemplating whether or not it had been a good idea to arrive by herself. Allowing Kirk to slip off and grab his pressure suit with a promise to meet her here had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that she had a James-free second to consider the decision, it didn't seem to be one of her better ideas. Being by herself gave her the chance to over analyse the situation, and her behaviour so far.

She _never_ acted like this. She was not the flirty, intelligent and witty girl that men like Kirk enjoyed preying on. She was the quiet, studious and hard working scientist that men ignored. In turn she was only interested in striving for a future that most said she probably wouldn't achieve. Christine had almost lost her dreams of a career once because of another man, was she really going to allow Kirk to take her focus from her nursing studies as well? Would she be so stupid for a second time? Why couldn't she learn from her mistakes?

Maybe if Christine could just figure out what it was about him that affected her so much, that would make him easier to deal with. There was no denying James Kirk was a handsome man and just looking at him was enough to make her feel light headed. More than that though, he was an authoritative and masculine specimen of a man. Perhaps she was betraying the ideals of feminism and equality, but the fact that he was so masculine appealed to her on a basic level as a woman and she found it hard to resist him. Whenever he was around, her head was filled with him and pushed out all other thoughts. Even in the middle of a battle situation, all Christine could focus on was the feeling of Kirk's arms around her, rather than the Romulan war vessel about to blast them into tiny pieces at any moment.

Perhaps it was his difference to the other men she had been attracted to that made being around him so utterly distracting. Christine had never been attracted to a man like James before; her type was usually the bookish and intelligent sort, not the gym honed action hero that other woman swooned over. But that had all gone out of the airlock when she'd gotten close to Kirk. Christine had no experience with his type of man, and so really wasn't sure how to deal with her feelings now that she was consistently around him. Every defence she had ever made for herself was useless against James Kirk, and if she wasn't careful she would end up doing something to humiliate herself because of him.

Now that she was inside the medical bay, it looked like she was determined to sabotage her resolve anyway. She may have been stood in the middle of the emergency treatment area, but that middle was barely more than arm's length from any of the walls. The bed took up most of the room, and that left little to no room to manoeuvre around in the remaining space. Moving over to it, Christine ran her hands over the standard grey sheet that covered the mattress and smoothed out creases that weren't actually there.

Try as she might, there was no way Christine could deny the growing attraction she felt. As much as she tried to figure out what it was specifically about James Kirk that made her feel that way, she knew it would do no good. Despite her decision to not get involved with another man until she'd graduated, it seemed she had little choice in the matter. If she couldn't control her reactions when James was around, she had little hope of denying it at all. The best the nurse could hope for was to manage the embarrassment that was certain to come with lusting after him.

Standing at the bedside, she realised how she must appear; timid and shy, waiting for the strapping officer to come in and be looked after by a blushing, wittering nurse. Turning on her heel, she faced the door and folded her arms across her chest. Tilting her head to the side, Christine tried to project an air of disaffection, or a stressed and over worked medical professional. Instantly she knew she was failing miserably. Dropping her arms, she clasped them in front of her and eased a smile onto her lips. Was the _'friendly, affable nurse'_ the way to go when dealing with a man like Kirk? Perhaps not. Drumming her hands against her thighs, Christine looked at the bed behind her, and an idea formulated. Carefully, she slid herself onto the edge of the mattress, folding one leg over the other. Her booted feet hung between the bed and the floor, and folding her legs forced the hem of her skirt to ride up her thighs. Glancing down, she saw at how much of her legs were exposed and immediately jumped down off the bed, flushing with embarrassment.

_Do I want him to think I'm a total slut?_ Christine mentally chastised herself, straightening the covers and running an agitated hand back through her mane of hair. _It shouldn't matter what he thinks of me. He is about to embark on an away mission, and I am just a nurse preparing him for the effects of the Vulcan atmosphere. A strictly professional interaction, that's all._

Deciding prostrating herself across the bed was clearly not the way to go, Christine was still presented with the problem of how to wait for Kirk. More to the point, once he had arrived, where exactly were they both going to fit? There wasn't much room for anything other than Christine herself and the treatment bed. Soon, a six foot two muscular command cadet would be joining her, filling what little remaining space there was in the emergency medical bay. Being at such close quarters with Kirk would make things uncomfortable awfully quickly.

Even as Christine was trying to work out if they would both fit inside the box room, she heard the door swishing open behind her. She froze in place, hands halfway to fixing a clip into her hair to keep it away from her face. In what felt like an eternity, she willed herself to turn around to come face to face with the object of her continuous torment.

James Kirk stood in the doorway, half hidden by shadows that the lights both inside and out failed to chase away. Seeing half his face through the veil or darkness, Christine sucked in a breath as she noted the way the shadows played at the angles of his face, emphasising his cerulean eyes and full lips. Why the hell couldn't she have had Olsen or Sulu to deal with? At least she wouldn't have had to worry about being so curious about what the shadows hid that she'd be willing to tear their clothes off.

Licking her lips, Christine forced herself to stand straighter. She would not be mastered by a stupid and pointless lust for another Cadet. She was a professional nurse now, and both Puri and McCoy would expect her to act as such.

"Come in Cadet," pleased that her voice didn't shake as much as she feared it would, Christine took a step to the side to indicate the rest of the room, "and take a seat on the bed please."

Kirk remained silent. After standing still for so long, he became suddenly alive with action as he walked inside. Within a single stride he had cleared the room and was now face to face with Christine. The way he had advanced on her forced the nurse to take a step back, and she was immediately met with the metallic frame of the bed. Pressed between Kirk's hard body and the harder bed frame behind her, Christine knew raising her eyes to meet his gaze would be her undoing. Well she refused to be affected like that. If Kirk thought he could play with her with a few suggestive comments and the occasional brush against her body, he had obviously set his sights on the wrong person.

Reaching over for a medical bag resting on the shelf to her left, Christine popped it open and began removing instruments, pretending to be oblivious to the fact James had her practically trapped. "I'll need to take your heart rate and your blood count before I can deliver the correct dosage of medication. I'll be as quick as I can so you can report for duty."

"Take your time." Christine winced at the sound of his voice, so rich and throaty it was obvious what was on his mind. But for the moment he was apparently through trying to torment her as he moved to the side and took a seat on the bed. It creaked softly as it took his complete weight, and she could only imagine how he would look sat on the edge just as she had been moments ago.

Clearing her throat, she set about laying the required instruments at his side, lining them up perfectly as her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder required. The sound of Kirk's even breathing filled the room, making her own held breath all the more obvious. When she realised it was no longer possible to avoid him, she stepped closer. He responded by parting his legs, leaving her no choice but to step between them. With hesitance she did so, leaving as much room between herself and the gap between his thighs as she could whilst staying within an arm's reach of his body.

"You know, you never told me your name." His voice was deep, and rumbled out from his broad chest. Christine kept her focus on the medical equipment in her hand, activating the scanner to pick up any skin aberrations that would require correction before he was sent onto Vulcan. If she thought about his voice anymore, she was honestly likely to drop the equipment and lose most of her basic motor controls.

"Nurse Chapel." She responded, flicking the scanner on. With a slow movement, she began the scan on his arm, tracing it up over his bicep and shoulder. Christine kept her eyes on the scanner, following its path and avoiding Kirk's gaze at all costs. However that meant she was forced to study the shape of his body; the rounds and peaks and troughs that the muscles created beneath his uniform were just as distracting as his handsome face.

"I know that." He said, sounding amused. "I heard Bones call you that earlier." Kirk sounded impressed that he'd had the wherewithal to have that piece of information, and she could hear the smile in his voice, "I meant your first name. What are you called when you're not on duty, Nurse Chapel?"

Christine furrowed her brow, concentrating on the scanner as she travelled over Kirk's torso and down to his legs. She would not be taken in by this line of questioning. "I don't think it's really appropriate for me to be discussing what I'm referred to off duty Cadet Kirk. Excuse me."

She leaned over his leg, running the scanner down to his lower leg before repeated the action on the other side

"Cadet Kirk? What happened to James?" When he realised she wasn't responding, he continued on anyway. "Normally, I prefer people to call me Jim. But with you... I don't know. I guess I like the way you say my name. And if you can call me James, surely it's only fair I get to call you by your first name as well?"

Biting her lip, Christine knew he was probably only trying to get a reaction out of her on purpose, but felt like the logic of his words made sense. She didn't need to repeat her scan of his torso, but found herself doing it anyway. Realising she was only stalling for more time, she couldn't stop herself from answering his question. Later, she would rationalise her decision that he was probably going to find it out anyway, she as well get it over with. But she couldn't deny the feeling that she'd lost in some way by giving in to his question. For all her brilliance when it came to medical science, she was all too naive when it came to dealing with people.

"Christine," she finally replied, "my name is Christine Chapel."

"Christine."

Unable to stop herself, Christine gripped the edge of the bed to the left of his thigh. Whether he was doing it on purpose or not, the way he said her name sent a tremble down the length of her spine. It had never sounded to enticing before; not even when Roger had said it. And being this close to Kirk, she was honestly struggling to remember who Roger was and why she should care at all about him, the transmission in her pocket forgotten for the moment. Pulling the scanner back at last, Christine engrossed herself in studying the readout. Of course, Kirk's skin was in impeccable form and would be perfectly fine for the trip to Vulcan.

"So Christine Chapel, third year nursing Cadet. You want to tell me why you can't bring yourself to look me in the eye?"

He was doing it again, challenging her to do as he wanted, but presenting in such a way that she would be forced to give in if she did as he asked, and foolish if she did not. Angered that he made her feel so inadequate, Christine defiantly lifted her head to meet his gaze. She fought so hard not be affected by the piercing blue gaze she saw right in front of her, but felt that all too familiar swirl at the base of his stomach. She half wondered if Kirk knew the effect he had on women, and whether he used to keep them off balance.

"I don't know what you're talking about Cadet -..."

"James," he interrupted.

"I don't know what you mean _Cadet_ Kirk." Emphasising the word only made him smile, but she refused to be backed into a corner proverbially or literally by him again. "I'm just performing a routine scan. You skin is within acceptable levels to journey to Vulcan. I'll need to check take some blood samples and scan your heart. Do you have a preference of the order in which I do it?"

Kirk seemed to consider the question. "Do the heart first, although I can tell you now it's beating pretty fast."

Christine blinked, feeling the hue of colour that filled her cheeks. Kirk looked positively delighted at the reaction he provoked, and that only made her scowl inwardly. Only he could turn a comment which on the surface sounded heartfelt into a weapon to embarrass her. And now to make matters worse, she'd have to ask him to do something in order for her to complete a thorough scan of his heart. Today was apparently not going to be her day because she was giving him opportunities to feel foolish.

"If you like. The heart monitor is a very sensitive piece of equipment. It's pretty new actually, and for it to be most effective it will need an unrestricted scan of the heart." Kirk looked blank, and Christine knew she was going to have to ask him to do it. Part of her wanted it so badly, but the more sensible side knew what was likely to happen if he agreed. "Would you mind taking your shirt of please Cadet? The monitor will work to peak efficiency if I place it directly on the skin."

A slow smile spread across his face, an almost predatory leer that Christine wasn't sure she liked, despite the thrill it gave her. "I just knew you wanted to get me by myself so you could get my clothes off." Reaching for his shirt, Kirk pulled it up and over his head in one single fluid movement.

Christine watched the black garment as he tossed it to the floor and saw where it fell. She realised she couldn't keep looking at forever and would have to look at Kirk sooner rather than later. _This is ridiculous! I'm a nurse! I've seen plenty of naked men in medical school. I shouldn't be having this much difficulty dealing with one single patient. Get it together Chapel!_

Turning her head from the shirt to Kirk, Christine fought hard to retain her composure. It took every reserve of strength she had to keep her face placid at the sight of a half naked James Kirk. His body looked every inch as amazing as it had felt when she'd been pressed against it. His shoulders were broad and set the shape for the rest of his frame. His chest was developed and firm, with abdominal muscles that were rippled with muscles. His arms were toned and bulged as he bent them at the elbows, reminding Christine of how they felt when they'd been wrapped around her. Losing herself in the memory, she mentally screamed at herself to be a professional and get on with the job at hand. If nothing else, the way she was gawping would easily be grounds for a dismissal from her post. Nurses weren't meant to lust after their patients, just aid in their rehabilitation and return to duty.

Clearing her throat, Christine pretended she couldn't see the satisfied smirk on Kirk's face as she reached for the heart monitor. It was a small, black, hexagonal shaped device that automatically fixed itself against the flesh above the heart to monitor its rhythm and level of general health. Leaning forward, Christine knew she'd have to get closer to affix it properly. She took a measured step forward, so that she was completely placed between Kirk's legs and rested up against the bed. He responded by placing his hands on his knees, effectively encircling her on all sides.

Holding the heart monitor between the tips of her thumb and finger, Christine pressed it against his body. The device immediately affixed itself, but Christine pressed her palm against the machine to ensure it held against him. By cupping the device, her fingers softly caressed against Kirk's chest and his body flinched in response. His skin was warm and soft against the tips of her fingers and she held her hand against it for far longer than was needed. _Add inappropriate contact to the list of offences for the Court Martial, _she thought_._

"Hold still," Christine whispered, "this'll only take a minute to get a complete picture of your heart and how well it is working."

The device hummed softly in response, and she took her hand away. Picking up the respective data pad, Christine watched as the monitor transmitted data directly to it. Facts and fingers appeared in quick succession, including the dimensions of his heart and the amounts of blood being pumped every second. It mapped the chambers of the organ, and how strong the muscle tissue was. A light flicked on the monitor, announcing it was complete in its diagnostic. Reaching for the device, Christine pulled it from his skin.

"You know Christine," Kirk sighed, tilting his head to the side as he regarded her, "there are easier ways to get my clothes off. You only really had to ask."

He smiled softly, but that look ended as Christine reached for a hypospray and plunged it against his neck. The device whirred as it extracted a sample of his blood and Kirk yelped in pain. She pulled it away again roughly, turning her back on him so she could furiously push it into a machine that would analyse the sample.

"What is it with you medical staff and jabbing me with those things?" Kirk moaned, taking his hand to his neck where the device had been pressed. "If I'd known you were going to be so rough, I would've asked Bones to take the tests."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you started wise-cracking." It came out a little more bitterly than Christine would have intended, but it was true none the less. One moment, Kirk could be sweet and nothing less than a gentleman. He'd been so caring and gentle with her when she'd been thrown around the bridge like a ragdoll. Now however, he was acting like the typical Starfleet jock that was only interested in bedding women rather that treating them as equals. However attractive he was, a sleazy personality would end any problems she had with tending to Kirk as a normal patient and the professional detachment it involved.

Christine hadn't realised it, but Kirk had slipped off the bed and had moved to stand behind her. She became aware of him behind her; perhaps the heat from his body gave him away as he gently leaned against her. His hands found her waist in a gentle grip, and his chin rested on the curve that joined her shoulder to her neck. He was invading her personal space in every way a person could, but she was powerless to resist him. If she'd been thinking clearly, she would have been concerned that one person could make her lose her senses so easily, but higher intelligence escaped her. All that she cared about was the exquisite strength of Kirk's body against her.

"I was joking." When she didn't respond, he squeezed her hips a little more firmly. "I'm sorry Christine," he whispered into her ear, "I have a stupid sense of humour. I have a recognised medical condition where I make inappropriate jokes when I'm nervous. Look it up, it's a universally recognised affliction."

Her cold fury melted at his gentle mocking, and feeling his bare chest being pressed against her back wore down any resistance she had left. What he could possibly have to feel nervous about was beyond her, but that didn't really matter. Trying to focus on the read out of the blood test, Christine realised she could see the results but it wasn't making any sense to her. She'd have to move Kirk away first before she could make any informed decision on it. If she could only bring herself to ask him to do it, she would be fine. "Does this affliction have a name?"

She may have been imagining it, but Christine was certain she heard him sigh in relief. "Acute Jerk-itis. It's a terrible thing to live with, but I do my best. Hopefully they'll find a cure one day."

Christine chuckled softly, and his own rumbled laugh vibrated against her back from inside his chest. She slowly turned around to face him, and was once more caught in his arms. Her eyes were level with his chest, and she took forever to raise her gaze to his face. He smiled down at her, and his mouth was inches from her own. She felt the urge to close the gap between them and press her lips against him, but fought herself to keep both feet firmly on the ground. He must have felt the same way as he seemed to imperceptibly lower his head to meet her halfway. Heat radiated between them, and Christine felt herself being carried away on a wave of desire as her hands began to explore the muscles of his arms. Slowly, she began to lift herself onto the tips of her toes, resting her hand on his arm as she moved toward her mouth. Maybe it was forward of her, but she didn't care. All concern for professional conduct was dismissed in favour of physical contact. Christine was certain if she didn't find out what it was like to have his lips pressed against her own, she would quickly lose control.

Captain Pike's disembodied voice put an end to that almost immediately. _"Pike to Away Team. The shuttle is prepared and ready for takeoff. Meet me in the shuttle bay immediately, Pike out."_

The Captain's voice cut through her rising passion with a blunt blow and Christine lowered her feet back to the ground. Appalled at herself and her complete lack of control, Christine shook her head, sending her strawberry blonde hair dancing around her head. They both sighed deeply, and Kirk's chest rose and fell a little more rapidly that it had before. "Take a seat James, we're almost through here."

He nodded his agreement and moved away from her. His hands were the last to let go, and they caressed her hips ever so slightly before they left contact with her skin. Exhaling softly, Christine ran her hand back through her hair, feeling uncomfortably warm. Looking at the machine in her hand, Christine read the readout properly now, and knew the correct dosage James would need to be able to deal with Vulcan's atmosphere.

Reaching for another hypospray, she added the correct dosages of drugs he would need to cope with the sky dive and the thinner atmosphere on Vulcan. Inserting a clear tube into the base of the device, she lifted her head to see Kirk's naked back as he pulled his pressure suit over his legs. His back flexed and tightened as he pulled the sides up and slid it over his torso. Enjoying the opportunity to observe his body, she bit down onto her bottom lip. He was as close to perfection as a man could get, and Christine realised she'd be content to watch him forever. He turned around to catch her watching him, and deliberately sealed the suit slowly to watch the reactions play across her face.

Stepping toward him, Christine lifted the hypospray and he tilted his head to the side. Pressing the head to the pulse point of his neck, she activated the release mechanism and flooded his bloodstream with required medication to keep him healthy and safe on his mission. He winced slightly, as she gently smoothed the skin where she had held the hypospray with the tips of her fingers

"You're good to go James." She smiled, placing the hypospray back down on the bed. "If you feel any side effects, let me know. But you should be fine. Just breathe normally and the medication will do the rest."

Kirk nodded, and reached for his helmet. Tucking it under his arm, he reached for her hand. "Thank you Christine." Lifting her hand in his own palm, he brought it to his mouth and planted a soft kiss against her knuckles. "I don't suppose I could convince you to make a house call to my quarters later, could I? Just in case I feel a little under the weather after the mission?"

Christine shook her head, chuckling softly. "Get going James." He nodded and headed for the door. "Be safe, won't you?"

As the door swished open, James turned back to look at her. "As the Nurse orders. I'll see you soon, I promise." With a wink of his cerulean eyes, he left Christine alone in the room.

Sagging against the bed, she felt the adrenaline rush from her body in one debilitating flow. Kirk was exhausting, and she knew she would need a good afternoon to get over their exchange. He was forward, and didn't care about how unprofessional he acted around her; not that her conduct befitted a Starfleet Cadet either. He could be sweet and caring, and at the same time cocky and infuriating. Well she was no fool. Christine knew exactly the type of reputation he had, and wouldn't be drawn into anything serious with him. She was probably only his latest distraction, and he would move on sooner or later. But a little harmless flirting in the meantime couldn't hurt, could it? If it provided a distraction from Roger, then it couldn't be a bad thing as far as she was concerned.

_Roger!_

Suddenly remembering the message, Christine delved a hand into her pocket and extracted the data stick. Contained on the storage device could possibly be the end of her, and she was terrified to read its contents. But she knew she had no other choice. If she was ever going to exorcise him from her life, she would have to read whatever he had written and actually deal with the fallout of their time together instead of pushing it aside and telling herself she'd gotten over him.

Just as she'd built up enough resolve to do it, another ship's communication interrupted her. _"McCoy to Nurse Chapel."_

Pushing a button on the communications device inbuilt in the wall, Christine leaned toward the speaker. "Chapel here Doctor."

"_I need you in the Medical Bay Christine. It's pretty bad down here. Report to me as soon as you are finished with Kirk."_

"I'm finished sir, I'm on my way to you. Chapel out."

Pushing the communication panel off, Christine immediately headed for the door. It looked like Roger's message would have to wait until she'd dealt with the situation in the Medical Bay.

However stressful the message and confronting her past might be, nothing would have prepared Christine for the horrors she was about to face in the Medical Bay. It was make or break time for her, and she was about to find out whether or not she had what it took to be a serving officer in Starfleet.


	7. In the line of duty

_**A/N**_: _As ever, I am truly humbled by the amount of support you have given this story. I am thrilled with the response, and hope that this chapter and the ones that follow continue to be an enjoyable read. All I ask is that if you read it, please leave me a review? I like to know what you think. Reviews are love. I disclaim!_

* * *

Nothing could have prepared Christine Chapel for the sights she was confronted with as she stepped out of the turbolift. The entire of Deck seven had been gutted by the impact of the _Narada's _torpedoes. Their shields had proved useless, reduced to less than forty per cent by the attack, leaving the deck unprotected. From the state of the corridor, she could guess at the amount of casualties the ship had sustained during the attack, and felt a cold sensation of dread settle in her stomach.

As the doors to the lift carriage opened, they became jammed, the walls warped and bent during the explosions that had ripped holes out of the deck. Unable to force them apart any further, Christine managed to slip through the available space and out onto the deck. Emergency lighting flickered above her head, casting shadows over the debris that littered the floor. Bits and pieces of the bulkhead, power cable casings and general shards of metal were strewn across the floor. All along the corridor, Christine could hear the hum of force fields that would have automatically activated as soon as the structure had been compromised. As quickly as they were designed to activate, she couldn't help but wonder how long the deck and the people working here were exposed to the freezing vacuum of space before they were protected by the energy shield.

Carefully manoeuvring through two fallen sections of ceiling casing, Christine rounded the corner. An engineer was on his knees, apparently trying to repair a control panel that looked burnt out. Stopping next to him, Christine crouched down at his side. The dark stain of blood against his temple was obvious even in the dim light. Gently, she placed her hand on his shoulder to draw his attention away from his work.

"Can I help you Cadet?" He questioned, giving Christine a brief glance before returning to his work. He held some sort of laser cutter in his hand, and he was moving the focused beam of energy over the panel. It looked welded shut, perhaps from the explosion, and Christine wondered if he was trying to cut into it.

"You're injured, sir." Christine recognised the insignia of a Lieutenant on the man, knowing that he was one of the few fully commissioned officers on board the vessel that was mostly being crewed by inexperienced Cadets. "You should come to the Medical Bay and let one of the Doctors check you over. You could be concussed."

The engineer huffed. "I'm fine." When he realised Christine wasn't about to leave him peace, he turned to face her with a dark scowl. "Look Cadet, I appreciate the concern for my health but there are others that need you more than me. I feel fine; I can see straight and use my hands. There are fluctuations running through the power grid all over the ship and I think it's because some of the connecting conduits were damaged during the attack. I need to check them out individually on this deck so I can make sure, and there is nobody else available to do it. If you don't mind, I need to get back to work."

Christine looked past him to the Medical Bay door. "If you're sure sir. But if you feel the slightest bit sick or nauseous, please come to the Medical Bay immediately so we can check you over?"

"Sure, sure."

Getting back to her feet, Christine headed along the corridor, once more avoiding the rubble that covered the corridor floor. She wasn't happy to leave the officer without a formal medical assessment, but short of drugging him and dragging him with her, she couldn't force him to go anywhere. Reaching the main entrance to the Medical Bay, she half wondered whether or not the doors would open automatically for her. They did, and unleashed the pandemonium that was going on inside.

A wall of pure noise hit her; made up entirely of the people's raised voices inside. It was so harsh and unexpected that Christine had to take a step back. Her sea blue eyes widened in abject shock as she saw the literal dozens of crewmembers that were inside the Medical Bay. It certainly hadn't been designed to have that many people inside, and it was crammed way past the point of capacity about two dozen people ago. Uniforms filled her vision; some propped up against walls, others lying down on the beds or standing in small groupings as the handful of medical staff still present tried their best to aid the sea of the injured. Beds were at a premium, some with three patients loaded on them.

"Chapel! Thank god you're here!"

Surprised that a voice reached her over the chaotic din, Christine turned to see the grim face of Leonard McCoy as he fought to reach her at the entrance. He was about a head taller than most people, and his dark good looks and brooding face tended to make him stand out in a crowd. Christine stepped forward to meet him, hearing the doors close behind her. Christine wasn't a claustrophobic person by nature, but having that many people crammed into a room all around her was more than a little unsettling. Already people were crowding around her, recognising her medical uniform, even if it was only a Cadet's version. Raising her arms around herself, she winced as so many people begged for her attention, clasping for her arm an tugging at her uniform. Just when she felt ready to collapse on the ground under the weight of their genuine need, McCoy's firm hand around her wrist pulled her to safety. Slinging an arm around her shoulder, he ducked his head down and guided Christine toward the back wall.

With her back pressed firmly against the wall, McCoy rested his arm against it, leaning close to her to make himself heard and shielding her as best he could from the chaos all around them. "We are drowning in here Chapel," McCoy bellowed in his trademark clipped, gruff voice. "Those damn Romulan torpedoes blew the deck to kingdom come and took the majority of the medical staff with it. Thank god you weren't down here when they attacked." Christine was touched by his genuine concern, but knew it was no time to get sentimental when there were so many people suffering all around them. "Puri is dead, and so are most of the senior Nursing and Medical Staff. Puri's Senior Assistant...that sour faced Vulcan, what's-his-name...?"

"Nirek?" Christine offered.

"Yeah, the one who looked like a dead pig's eyes. Well he's gone too." Christine was scandalized by McCoy's apparent lack of respect for a dead colleague, not acquainted with gallows humour to deal with difficult situations, but wasn't given the chance to think more of it as he continued. "I'm the only fully qualified Doctor with any real medical experience left on board. If I left it to those Academy guppies runnin' around over there we'd be operating a morgue instead of a medical bay. You'd think none of them had seen a hypospray before the way they were carrying on."

Her heart pounding in her chest, Christine held her hand over it as she sucked in deep breaths. This was so far beyond a worst case scenario that she would never have imagined it in a million years. Three years at the Academy hadn't prepared her for this!

All the senior medical staff were gone, including Doctor Puri; the ships Chief Surgeon and head of the Medical and Science Departments. They weren't even left with his Vulcan assistant, Doctor Nirek to turn to. Christine couldn't process either of them being gone; she'd only spent that very morning talking to Puri. She could still picture his kindly smile and grandfatherly chuckle. How could he be dead? How could the ship function with so many casualties and no medical team? As the room began to spin before her eyes, Christine felt McCoy put his hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently.

"Stay with me Chapel," he ordered, "don't pass out on me now, I need you!"

"N-need me?" She stammered a response, her vision clearing to see McCoy's face inches from hers, a tired and concerned expression marring his features. What was she good for with no senior medical technicians to guide her? "What can I do? There is no medical staff left! We need to signal the bridge. They need to know the extent of the problem down here!"

"We will do no such thing," McCoy snapped, a scowled smile on his face, "I wouldn't give that green-blooded automaton the satisfaction of knowing we are in a dicey situation. And we have got medical staff on board." Christine looked blank. "You and me Chapel, you and me! We're going to treat everyone in the Bay right now. With me treating the patients and you assisting me, we'll see everyone right by the end of the duty shift!"

Christine held silent for a moment, her eyes wide and mouth frozen in a twisted gasp of incredulous horror. "Have you totally gone out of your mind? We're Cadets! There are holes in the deck for crying out loud, and half the ship seems to be down here! And how can we do the job of a whole medical team? We're only two, unqualified people! Be reasonable Leonard!"

It wasn't a normal occurrence for Christine to address a superior physician by his first name, but considering the circumstances she was certain she'd be forgiven for the slip. And if not, they could always add it to the growing list of court-martial offences waiting for her when they got back to earth.

"That's the spirit my girl!" McCoy growled with laughter. "Look, we've got a few Cadets with field medic training and one of the junior doctors survived the attack, Doctor Maira. Nurse Longford did too, although she's a little shaken up. Nothing a sip of whiskey wouldn't fix, of course."

Seeing her way out, Christine gripped McCoy by the wrists as he continued to hold her shoulders. "Surely Nurse Longford would be a better choice for your assistant Doctor?" McCoy arched an eyebrow, but Christine wasn't dissuaded. "She's a fully qualified Nurse and has a few years of medical experience. This is her third posting aboard a starship, I'm pretty sure. A much better match for the position of Doctor's assistant, right?"

"Chapel, Longford's hands shake so much you'd swear she was on vibrate." Running a hand down his face so that his features were momentarily smudged, McCoy levelled Christine with a hard glare. "You have proved yourself to me as a hardworking and extremely capable Nurse. I know you have a background in Medical Science and probably know more about the treatment of injuries sustained during a battle situation than most of the old senior medical staff combined."

McCoy had her on that one. Christine had achieved perfect results on her paper based on the treatment of patients and the injuries they could sustain whilst a Starship was under attack. But that had been theory, and this was real life in all its' brutal, unforgiving glory. "Bottom line Chapel?" McCoy continued. "I need you. I cannot help these people without you. So I am asking you, not as a Cadet to a Cadet, but a Doctor to a Nurse to put aside your fears and concerns and do what you swore to do when you signed on the dotted line to become a physician. Help these people Christine, help your colleagues and your friends."

Any reservations Christine still held finally melted in that moment. McCoy was right, of course. She had sworn to preserve and protect life wherever she found it, and right now she was needed. The time for uncertainty and fear was over because real people needed her to be the Nurse everyone said she was capable of being.

Well, she wouldn't disappoint them. "All right Doctor. I'm with you."

McCoy looked mildly surprised. "And there was me thinking I'd have to give you a mild sedative and a direct order to get you to agree. My people skills know no bounds!" With a grin, McCoy pushed away from the wall and headed across the room. Christine immediately followed in the gulf that he left in his wake, finding it easier to move through the sea of people as they made way for the now senior physician.

"First things first Chapel," McCoy stated as they reached a medical bed, "we assess the problem, discuss treatment and then move on. If they aren't serious, then they can wait for the cadets and field medics to mop them up. Our focus has to be on the serious cases. We'll start with the batch brought in from Engineering. Some nonsense about exploding power couplings or something. Damned Starships. I swear the proportion of engineers that come to sick bay is in direct correlation to the speed of the ship. The faster we go, the more they tear themselves to pieces."

Clucking his tongue, McCoy moved to the first bed. Christine recognised the officer immediately. It was Cadet Thomas Valance from engineering. She knew him well, as he'd lived in the room across from her during their second year at the Academy. She remembered how he enjoyed playing soccer and had dated one of the nurses in her study group. In fact, she'd heard he'd gotten engaged recently. As she got closer, she saw the hideous burnt flesh along the left side of his face, and where those same burns marred his arms and hand. Whatever had burnt the Cadet had ruined his uniform and burned through to the flesh. Sections of his sleeve had melted against his mutilated flesh, making a horrendous mess of human flesh and material.

McCoy pulled a scanner out from his bag and began taking readings as she struggled to come to terms with seeing a close friend in such obvious pain. "Assessment Nurse Chapel?"

"Human male," Christine noted, skilled in giving the select information the Doctor would need to deal with his treatment. She found it easier to focus on that than how much her friend was suffering. "Twenty two years of age. Good health, no history of medical conditions. The victim of plasma burns by the look his injuries. Extensive damage to his epidermis, I would estimate forty per cent of his tissue has suffered third degree burns."

"Forty-four per cent, to be exact." McCoy looked impressed as he shut of his scanner. "Painful, but not immediately life threatening. He will need our attention soon, though. Get the cadets to prepare him for extensive dermal regeneration and something to regulate his heart beat."

Making notes on the date pad, Christine took the opportunity to reach for the Cadet's hand. She squeezed it softly in her own. "You'll be alright Tom. Just try to breathe slowly and we'll give you something for the pain." The Cadet groaned softly, although she felt his hand tense as he squeezed her hand in return. At least he could hear her, and that was some comfort. "We'll be back soon, I promise."

Letting go of his hand was the hardest thing Christine had to do, but it was necessary. If she allowed herself to becoming mired in the pains of her friends, she would fail the rest of the crew that needed her help. Passing the notes to a Cadet Physician, Christine moved to the next table where McCoy was busily scanning. The patient was Vulcan, and appeared to be in discomfort in the shoulder area.

"Dislocated shoulder and two broken ribs. Not an emergency. A Cadet will fix your bones Lieutenant." McCoy was already moving to the next bed.

Christine knew better than to take the hand of a Vulcan, but still felt it was her duty to check on his well being. "How are you feeling sir? Can I get you anything?"

"The pain is bearable Cadet. I will employ Vulcan breathing techniques to manage my discomfort until my injuries can be addressed. You may continue your assessments of the other patients."

Only a Vulcan could describe broken bones as a source of discomfort. Apparently dismissed, she moved on to rejoin McCoy. It was another engineer, and he was clearly more distressed than the others. He was clutching his right hand to his chest, and Christine could only guess the damage done judging by the amount of blood pouring from beneath his clenched hand.

"Severed tendons. It looks like the Cadet here drove a laser saw straight through his hand. We'll need to patch this up. Medical kit please." Christine responded immediately, handing the relevant kit to McCoy. He removed a variety of instruments and placed them on the bed next to the Cadet. Handing a more intricate regenerator designed to repair internal injuries to Christine, he indicated to the injured hand. "I will stop the blood flow, but you'll have to repair some of the damage to the arteries to ensure they don't continue to bleed. Can you do that?"

Christine nodded. She'd studied this in her first semester; surely it couldn't be different to the simulations? "Ready when you are Doctor."

McCoy exhaled slowly, before coaxing the Cadet to take his hand away from protecting his injured limb. The Cadet hissed softly as he pulled his hand away, and he revealed a crimson glove that had once been his hand. Christine wasn't so sure she could make out all the required fingers and thumb to make it a human hand. The literal rivers of blood that were released now that the pressure was gone from the wound were enough to make the most hardened of surgeons nauseous, but she pushed the thoughts away and leant toward the patient as McCoy began halting the blood flow.

They worked in tandem, McCoy slowing the blood flow and diverting it to other paths through the limb whilst Christine sealed off and repaired the arteries and veins that were severed during the accident. They worked quickly and confidently, and she finished by wrapping the hand in a dressing until the cadets could take the necessary action to repair the limb fully. Just as they prepared to move themselves to the next patient, agitated voices from across the room drew their attention.

"Doctor! We need a doctor! She's not breathing!"

"Doctor McCoy, we need you over here. The Cadet has lost consciousness."

McCoy turned to Christine, obviously struggling with whatever decision he had to make. "I can't be in two places at once Chapel. I need you to go and deal with the patient in the last bed and I'll join you as quickly as I can."

Christine wasn't given an option to argue as McCoy was already striding across the room toward the second voice. A quick scan of the room revealed Doctor Maira dealing with another patient, and two of the junior doctors also had their hands full. She really had no other choice than to do what she could. Grabbing an unattended medical kit, Christine pushed her way through the crowd of officers to the last bed. Two Cadet Physicians looked anxious, arguing about what was to be done with the patient. On the bed, a human female laid with a deep wound in her lower chest. They'd managed to stop the blood flow, but from the look on her monitor she'd gone into massive heart failure and her heart was struggling to beat.

"I'm telling you Davies, she needs a large dose of adrenaline to kick start her heart rhythm." The blonde hair doctor reached for a hypospray but the other Cadet stopped him.

Shaking his head, he pointed to the monitor. "Her blood pressure is too low. Pumping that into her heart is useless because it won't be distributed through her system. We need to get it beating more strongly first."

"Gentleman, if we don't make a decision she's not going to make it." Both Cadets turned to Christine who was checking out the woman's vitals. She hadn't planned on speaking out of turn, but the sight of them blustering over the correct treatment made her speak up. There wasn't time go be arguing when a woman's life was hanging in the balance.

"Who are you? Where is Doctor McCoy? We need a senior physician, not a Nurse."

Ignoring the unintentional barb, Christine raised her gaze to both their faces. They were young Cadets, and obviously unsure of what was expected in this situation. They probably hadn't even completed the study of the human heart and the various treatments for it yet. She couldn't really think lowly of them, considering this was their first experience of medicine in the field, but their bickering wasn't going to help. Unless they made their decision quickly, she was going to die.

Just as she thought of the eventuality, the monitor bleeped a warning, alerting them that the officer's heart had stopped beating. Both Cadets froze, looking in wild shock at one another. They clearly had no clue what to do next. She may have abandoned her career as a Doctor, but Christine knew what was required.

"Quick! Give her the adrenaline!"

The cadet leaned forward with the hypospray, aiming to deliver the dose directly into her heart. Christine immediately lunged forward, pushing the Cadet out of the way. Reaching for the resuscitation unit, she pulled two small black disks free of the main unit and placed them above the patient's heart and chest cavity. Stepping back, Christine pretended she couldn't hear their spluttered protests at her getting involved as she prepared the machine to give the correct voltage of an electrical current to kick start her heart.

"Stand clear." Surprised at the authority in her own voice, Christine watched as everyone around the bed took a step back. Entering a command into the box, an electrical current was immediately pulsed into the officer. Her entire body convulsed her back arching off the bed as the charge flooded through her system and into her heart.

Looking up at the monitor, Christine could see that it hadn't made a difference. Her heart continued to not beat. Looking more closely at the woman's face, a spark of recognition flickered in Christine's memory, although she struggled to place her face. _The shuttle!_ Although she didn't know the Cadet's name, Christine recognised her because they'd sat next to one another on the shuttle trip taking them from Earth to the Enterprise. That small link was enough to light a fire in Christine. She would not allow this woman to die. If ever she needed a reason to believe in herself and her future as Starfleet Nurse, this was it. "Another charge. Stand clear."

She initiated another pulse, but still the officer failed to respond. Her heart continued to remain still, and Christine knew time was running out before irreversible brain damage set in. _Think Christine!_ _Why won't her heart start? No stimulant, right. Manual compression and a dose of controlled stimulant to regulate her heart beat._ Her medical training at the tips of her figures, Christine addressed the Cadets. "You, get me Amiodarone now. You, start chest compressions. That's an order!"

Of course Christine had no authority over the Cadets, but the dazed expressions on their faces were quickly removed as they were spurned into action by the apparent order. One moved away from bed, whilst the other began manually stimulating the heart as Christine reached for another device designed to oxygenate the blood. Even if she couldn't get the heart beating in the next four minutes, she could attempt to stave off damage to the organs and brain death by keeping oxygen flooding to the vital areas until she could get it pumping again. Placing the device at the base of the patient's throat, Christine activated it, and the woman's chest rose slightly as oxygen was delivered to her body.

"No change," the Cadet performing the chest compressions informed her, "perhaps we should cease efforts to..."

"Absolutely not!" Christine interrupted, snatching the hypospray loaded with the required stimulant from the other Cadet. Turning on him with a furious glare, she couldn't believe his willingness to give up. They had to at least try every method available to them to save this woman before they conceded her demise. After all, she was just like them, thrust from the Academy to the Enterprise without a choice in the matter. Why should she lose her life because Starfleet was caught unprepared by a Romulan madman? It was unacceptable to Christine in every possible way. "We will not give up on this Cadet! Now move out of my way and prepare another charge. This is going to work."

So focused on her task, Christine didn't notice the small circle of concerned officers that formed around the bed. Placing the hypospray at the neck she activated the device, delivering a dose of stimulant directly into the blood stream, before demanding another charge to be activated. The patient convulsed again, but the heart continued to refuse to beat. Shoving the Cadets aside, Christine mounted the bed and the now deceased officer. Aiming her hand above the heart, she brought it down in a controlled fist strike. She'd attended the necessary classes on resuscitation to know that sometimes patients responded to more physical attempts to restart the heart. Blunt blows could be successful where charges and manual stimulation weren't. Every few seconds, Christine delivered another blow but the monitor taunted her with a flat read out for the woman's heart beat. Every piece of equipment at her disposal told Christine the woman was gone.

"Come on...beat dammit...Don't give up Cadet. This should be working! Why...won't...you...beat!" Every word was punctuated with a dull thud; the sound of Christine's fist landing blows to the chest in an effort to get the woman's heart beating. But it was to no avail.

Christine wasn't sure when she'd started crying, but the tears that stung her eyes and blurred her vision were not enough to stop her in her attempts to resurrect the lost Cadet. Even as her arm began to tire from landing the strikes, she refused to stop. Long after the acceptable time for a person to be resuscitated and not be affected by the lack of oxygen to their organs was over, she continued to try and save the woman.

In took the gentle touch of Leonard McCoy placing his arms around her and helping her down off the bed to finally make her stop. He held her gently in the protective embrace of his arms, as she continued to sob uncontrollably against his chest. All around them, the Cadets and officers made a respectful circle, none of them unmoved by the efforts of the Cadet Nurse to save their fallen comrade and her sorrow at failing. Their silence was only made more obvious by the anguished cries of Christine. Murmuring to the Doctors to take over assessment and treatment, McCoy led Christine across the sickbay to the Chief Surgeons office. The crew present respectfully stepped aside, everyone sharing in the pain of Christine.

Lowering her into a seat, McCoy produced a small flask of whiskey from his pocket. Christine batted it away, her sobs quiet now. Her blue eyes continued to leak tears, and if possible the petit Nurse looked smaller than usual; as though she was utterly defeated. McCoy moved to kneel before her, resting his hands on the chair on which Christine was sat.

"You did everything you could Christine," McCoy said softly, "sometimes we just can't save them. You did your very best..."

"And it wasn't good enough." Her voice was flat, emotionless as she looked almost vacantly at McCoy. "All the medical knowledge I have, all the learning and studying of life sciences that I've done...graduating at sixteen and completing my degree two years early...and what good did it do me? I couldn't save her Leonard. She died because I wasn't good enough to save her." McCoy made a sound of disagreement, but was cut off as Christine spoke, seemingly enraged at her perceived failure. "It's not fair Leonard! She shouldn't have even been on board. None of us should. We were stationed here before we were ready, and now that poor woman has lost her life because of it. She's dead because I didn't know enough to save her." Wiping tears away with the back of her hand, Christine's body shuddered with unreleased sobs. "It...it's just not fair. We're just pawns for Starfleet...lambs to the slaughter."

As the tears threatened to overcome her again, McCoy took her hand between his own. "Part of being a Physician is learning to accept that sometimes, despite our best efforts, we cannot save everyone that we treat. If we could prevent every death, then we'd be more than Doctors. We would be Gods. And call me foolish, but I don't believe we are meant to have that responsibility. We save who we can, and mourn those that we can't."

Christine shook her head sadly. "Then maybe I don't want to be a Physician. How do you learn to deal with it Leonard? How do you harden your heart so it doesn't reach you? I don't know if could sacrifice that much of myself just so I can be a good Nurse."

"Oh it reaches me Christine. It reaches me every day. I can't tell you how many people I've cured over the years; thousands probably. But I could list the names of the sixty-three people I've failed to save since I became a doctor for you, right now. In date or alphabetical order." McCoy looked distant for a moment, but he had earned Christine's undivided attention. "I carry on because there are others that still need my help. We do as much good as we can, and learn to accept the rest. It's not easy, but it comes with time. And if I allowed the deaths to stop me from doing my job, then I would be disrespecting the memory of those I lost by refusing to save others..."

"Tom Valance," Christine suddenly stated, realizing now where McCoy had been called over to when she'd been fighting to save the life of the woman. "The Cadet with the plasma burns we saw, is he okay?"

McCoy's face fell, and Christine instantly knew he wasn't. She'd lost a friend today, and time would only tell how many more she would lose before the carnage had ended and the dust settled. The Romulan attack had taken so much from her today, more than she'd been able to give. Christine didn't notice McCoy get up from the floor and carefully wrap her in his arms again, but she was grateful for his strength.

Christine didn't try to stop the tears now, and they fell freely as McCoy whispered soothingly into her hair. She cried for her friend Tom, losing his life far too early and the fiancé she knew he'd left behind; made a Starfleet '_widow'_ at the age of twenty one. She cried for the woman she couldn't save, who would never return home to her proud parents as a commissioned officer, losing her life on a mission she should never have been part of. Would her parents think their daughter's dedication to Starfleet and its code of duty and honor being worth her life?

And Christine cried for herself. The little innocence she had left in life had been cruelly snatched away at the same time her fellow officers had lost their lives. All the theory of medical science in the world hadn't prepared her for this moment, and now there would be no going back. She'd seen death up close now; both professionally and personally and it had affected her so deeply she wasn't sure she would ever be the same woman again.


	8. You are not alone

_**A/N**__: Another chapter for your reading pleasure. I wanted to say thank you to those of you who continue to review, particularly those who wrote with such honesty after the last chapter. I am truly humbled that my story connected to you on a personal level, and thank you for sharing it with me. Originally this chapter was going to put up last night, but I had a sudden attack of inspiration and spent the day re-writing it. I hope you enjoy it. And as a not so subtle beg, if you read, please take the time to review? It means a lot to know what you think._

_As ever, I disclaim! Please read and __**review**__!!_

* * *

Stumbling as she exited the turbolift, Christine reached out a hand to the wall in order to stop herself from falling completely to the floor. She was exhausted, and her feet felt so heavy that it was an effort to pick one up and place it in front of the other. She'd spent the last hour in the Medical Bay, dealing with every kind of injury she could have imagined, and a load more that she hadn't. The Romulan attack had taken the ship by surprise, and the twenty-six wounded were a testament to that.

However it was the four deaths that weighed the heaviest on Christine's heart. The female Cadet, Natalie Lawton as she'd learned her name later, had been the first comrade to be lost. The Nurse felt a new kind of guilt that she hadn't experienced before, a sense of responsibility for the loss, and wasn't sure it was possible for her to ever come to turns with it. Thomas Valance had died moments after her, the plasma burns sending him into shock and eventual cardiovascular arrest. Christine had wondered whether she could have done more for her friend when he'd originally been assessed, but didn't have the capacity to deal with anymore more guilt this evening. In a few days time when the Enterprise had returned to Earth she'd probably have plenty of time to feel awful over his death, but at this moment she was exhausted beyond the point of reason.

The final two deaths, a Vulcan Lieutenant and a Trill Cadet had been the last cases Christine had dealt with before Doctor McCoy had insisted she go back to her quarters and rest. The Vulcan had pretty much severed his head in a horrific accent whilst he was further down the deck when the Romulans had struck. A bulk head had exploded directly in front of him, and Christine had known it was hopeless when his distraught engineering colleagues had brought him through the door. They didn't know how long he'd been laying there, hidden by a piece of bulkhead, bleeding through a huge gash to his throat. It was obviously too late by the time Christine and McCoy got to him.

But it was the Trill who affected Christine more so. Cadet Rabi Agyni, a dear friend she'd started at the Academy with, had been lost during the battle. They'd been partners in chemistry and had been firm friends for the past three years. In fact, aside from Uhura, Rabi was probably her closet friend in the entire Academy. And now he was dead. An exploding power coupling had shocked his heart into silence and no matter how medicine was thrown at him, he would not come back.

It was then Christine realised she would never hear his booming laugh again when she did something clumsy. She would never sit opposite him again when he devoured a burger in the refectory and would try and enthuse about their latest assignment, spitting chunks of masticated meat in her direction. They would never stay up until the earliest of hours studying for a test, nor would they make good on their promise to undertake some heavy research into the spread of interstellar viruses on board Starships. Rabi would have no future now, and Christine felt that loss to the core of her being.

Unfortunately, every tear she'd possessed had been spilled during that shift, and Christine had cried herself to the point of pain. Her eyes burned and itched as they felt ready to release more tears for her lost friend, but none would come. Christine was totally and utterly exhausted, not even possessing the strength to mourn for a friend. She felt like she was betraying his memory, and in turn was being betrayed by her own body for failing to respond like she knew she should.

Reaching the door to her quarters, they opened automatically at her presence and she hobbled inside. It was exactly as she'd pictured; the standard issue room for a serving officer, decked out in the typical Starfleet hue of grey and dark blue. She was lucky enough to have a window built into the back wall, although the stars held no interest for her tonight. The door barely had time to shut behind her before she reached for her boots. With numb fingers, she unzipped them and kicked the footwear aside. Reaching for her Cadet shirt, she pulled it up and off her head in one swift movement, ignoring the thud it made when the shirt hit the ground. Her skirt quickly followed, removed and kicked anywhere that wasn't in her sight. Normally her Obsessive Compulsive Disorder would demand her to leave the garments in an orderly pile. This evening however, that compulsion was overridden by aching loss.

A trail of her underwear led to the bathroom, where Christine stepped into the sonic shower. She felt filthy, as though the blood of all the patients she'd been treating was still somehow staining her deep into the layers of her skin. The sensation of her hands feeling the material of the medical covers she'd pulled over the faces of the deceased felt burned into her skin, and scrubbing at them wouldn't remove it. What she wouldn't give for a long soak in a hot bath. Unfortunately, bathtubs weren't standard issue anymore after the brand new showers had been fitted into all the newer Starships. Officers had to make use of the sonic showers, and whilst they cleaned you perfectly with pulses of focused sound vibrations, they weren't quite the same as unwinding in a tub of steaming water.

Stepping out of the cubicle, Christine felt no cleaner than she had a moment ago. Heading back into the main area of her quarters, she moved to her case where all her clothes lay still packed. She hadn't even had time to unpack and settle into her own private corner of the ship before she'd been called into duty. Without the luxury of retreating to her own room filled with the comforts of home to lose herself in, Christine felt bitterly lonely. Pulling open the standard issue carrying case, she found her cream-coloured silk robe lying on top where she'd left it. Pulling it free, it was easy enough to sling it around her shoulders and belt it at the waist and slump onto the bed. Sleep wouldn't come for a long while yet, if at all, so Christine had to recognise she would be ignoring McCoy's direct order to do just that. She felt more drained that she had ever been in her life, yet her thoughts simply refused to shut off and give her peace.

Resting with her chin in the cradle of her hands, Christine decided that she may as well do something to keep her hands busy in the meantime. Her uniform had been scattered across her quarters, which wouldn't do at all, and she started to pick everything back up. Reaching for her shirt, Christine noticed something slip out of the pocket as she retrieved it from the heap on the floor. Bending down to examine it closer, she realised at once it was the message from Roger. With hesitancy, she reached down to scoop the black data stick up in her hand. Holding it close, she surveyed it for a moment. The stick was smooth, polished black and capable of storing more information than was contained in an entire library. And yet it only held one message that she was interested in; a message from a ghost of her past that threatened to push her over the edge she was so delicately balancing on already.

She wasn't sure when she'd moved back to her case, but the next thing Christine knew, she was reaching her hand back into her case, rummaging around for the bottom where she knew the object she wanted was safely tucked. Her fingers brushed against the hard, oak edges and she pulled it free from the rest of her belongings.

Lowering herself to sit cross-legged on the floor, Christine studied the two objects in her hands. One was a message from her past, the other a reminder of it that she couldn't seem to give up. The small, antique oak box gleamed in the artificial lighting, and Christine ran her thumb over one of the edges. Before she could stop herself, she gently prised the lid open and stared at the object nestled in the purple velvet cushions.

It was the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen; an exquisite white gold band with a group of diamonds at the head. Six smaller blue diamonds surrounded the larger one in the centre, which looked like it had been plucked from the heavens itself. It was all too easy to take the ring out of the box and slip it onto her ring finger. The smooth, cool metal felt familiar against her finger, almost like Christine was making herself whole again. Tightening her grip on the data stick, Christine fought back the rising sorrow that normally was locked away deep inside her heart.

Without her permission, her memory decided to unleash the most painful of moments she'd ever experienced in her life. She wondered if it was due to the tactile contact of the engagement ring; that it triggered this memory by her feeling it on her finger again. As though she was watching a movie in a holo-theatre, the scene played out before her very eyes from the depths of her consciousness, and Christine couldn't herself to stop reliving it.

_I skipped across the street, waving to Mr. Kendrick as he dutifully brought out a broom to sweep in front of his store. He raised his leathery hand, giving me that lopsided grin he always reserved for me. I made a note to go and see him at some point this weekend, and maybe invite him up for dinner. After Eugenie had passed on, I often worried that he might get lonely living above his shop without having her to take care of him anymore, and wanted to make sure that he was okay._

_Reaching the ground floor of our apartment block, I pressed my thumb against the security scanner. The door buzzed, the sound of the latch undoing as it pulled itself open to allow me inside. Readjusting the brown paper bags I held under my arm, I headed inside. Ignoring the elevator, I headed for the stairs, taking two at a time. Getting up to the third floor always made me breathless, but it was a nice feeling to have my heart pumping and my lungs working. A flush of warmth hit my cheeks and I smiled. Reaching my own front door, I offered my thumb as proof of my identity again, and I walked insid.,_

_The apartment wasn't exactly grand, but it was ours. We'd taken it not long after it had been built; a five story building with beautiful views of New Orleans. The huge floor to ceiling windows had always been my favourite part; their height allowing the world to come pouring in from outside and make the entire place seem much bigger than it really was. The heels of my shoes clattered across the wooden flooring as I made my way to the kitchen. The entire apartment was open plan, so you could see everything no matter what room you were in. The set of stairs led up to the bedroom which was situated just above the living room. I loved that you could lean over the side and shout downstairs without any walls to get in your way. It was open and honest, and everything I'd always dreamed of having growing up. _

_Reaching the kitchen, I placed the bags down on the counter and began sorting them out. The dimming evening lights were all the illumination I needed to see what I was doing, but the voice behind me startled me so much that I lost my grip on the tomatoes I was holding._

"_Lights."_

_Gasping in surprise, I threw the round, red fruit everywhere. Whirling around on my right heel, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief as I recognised Roger. It was stupid really, nobody else could be inside and the computer system inbuilt within the complex of apartments would only respond to one of our commands. He was sat at the kitchen table, bathed in darkness with an unreadable expression on his face, hidden by the shadows. The lights that rose chased them away, but I still couldn't tell what he was feeling. I should have known at that moment something was wrong because I could always tell what Roger was feeling. He would make the world's worst Poker player because his face betrayed his every emotion. I could literally read him like the proverbial book._

"_You scared me." I said with a relieved smile. Bending down, I started picking up the stray fruit that had somehow managed to wedge itself under the refrigerator door. "What are you doing sat in the dark anyway? I didn't think you'd be home for a few hours yet."_

"_I got off early." He shrugged his shoulders, the white shirt crinkling around them as he moved. I placed the tomatoes on the table and looked at him for a moment. He was the most handsome man I'd ever met; just under six foot with sandy blonde hair and big, soulful brown eyes. He wasn't the athletic type, having a lithe build and the pale skin of a man unaccustomed to the outdoors. Like me, Roger was more likely to be found with his head in an experiment at the science lab rather than out in the sunshine. He was a scientist after all, and a brilliant one at that._

"_Oh, right. Well, I'm making pasta for dinner, that okay?" I didn't really wait for answer, instead turned around and carried on putting the groceries away. I slipped out of my heels and moved them into a corner before I started getting things ready to start cooking._

_I was a little disappointed that he'd come home early. I'd be planning on surprising him with a meal out on the balcony. Still, now that he was here it didn't mean we couldn't enjoy ourselves. And at least I'd have an extra pair of hands to set the table whilst I finished the meal._

"_I came home because I wanted to talk to you." Looking back, I can hear the strained tones in his voice, although I didn't pick up on it at the time. I don't know why not, I'm usually so observant – especially where Roger was concerned._

"_That's good; I wanted to talk to you too." Taking out saucepans, I started to heat the water before locating the pasta. I could tell Roger had been in the cupboard because things had been moved. Bowing to my obsessive compulsions, I had to straighten out the shelves before I could do anything else. "I think my sister is having an affair with someone." Pulling out a large metal spoon, I turned around to look at him for a moment. "It isn't anything she's said, but I get the feeling she's deliberately keeping something from me. She only ever does that when she's seeing someone she thinks I won't approve of. And usually, I don't. Remember the Dan Richardson episode? How she thought a man with a list of criminal convictions against him had a future, I don't know."_

"_Chrissy..."_

"_I'm sure my mother wouldn't approve, although I don't know if she knows about it." I winced, feeling guilty for mentioning my mother. We weren't on the best of terms; hadn't been really since I moved out at fifteen and come to stay with Roger. I didn't understand then why she couldn't just be happy for me, but that's the mother daughter relationship for you. It's like we built not to understand one another. And now, I can sort of empathise why a mother would worry about her fifteen year old daughter running off with a man of almost twenty. That had been a year ago before that night, I hadn't spoken to her since. "I guess she's her own woman and she should be allowed to make her own mistakes. But I'm her sister and I feel like I should do more for her, you know? Maybe I'll invite her over for dinner one night so we can talk about it."_

"_Chrissy..." He said my name with more feeling this time, and had gotten out of his chair. Roger was the only one to ever shorten my name. Everyone else calls me Christine or Chapel. Still, I carried on nattering away, oblivious to his uncomfortable stature._

"_What?" I answered in a breath before continuing. "Oh, and on my way home from lectures I saw the beautiful Vulcan roses on display. White and soft pink ones. I think they'd be perfect for the wedding." I stirred the pasta once as I added it to the boiling water. "And speaking of, did you hear back from your Uncle or not about the carriage? I know it's a little draconian to want to have a horse-drawn carriage for your wedding, but it's always been something that I've dreamed of."_

"_Christine!"_

"_God, what? There's no need to shout Roger, I'm standing right here." I turned around from the pot of cooking pasta to see Roger was standing right behind me. There was a look in his eyes, one that I hadn't seen before and I couldn't give a name too. It should have unnerved me, but I was more concerned with why he was stopping me from making sure the pasta wasn't sticking together. To my sixteen year old mind, that was the biggest of my worries. _

_Ignorance can be so cruel._

_He softly rested his hands on my hips, kneading the flesh firmly between his fingers. "Would you just shut up and listen to me, for one second? I need you to sit down, okay?" I nodded, and he steered me away from the counter to the table._

_Ever the gentleman, Roger pulled out the seat for me and I dropped into it. It was right then that I knew something could be wrong. Well, I didn't know it so much as suspect it. It was like a nagging sensation at the back of my skull, one that came before proof for real concern. The last time he'd sat me down at the table to talk to me, he'd said he wanted us to move to the outskirts of New Orleans, away from our families and friends so we could start our own life together, away from their concerns and their constant interference. And that hadn't worked out so badly for us, had it? We were happy; at least I was, so I convinced myself I was fretting over nothing. Big mistake._

"_You know how much you mean to me, don't you? I adore you Christine." He reached across the table and he took my hand. His palms were soft and delicate, and my hands looked like those of china dolls in his. "You mean so much to me, and I am so grateful that you trusted me enough to come here and start building our life together. Honestly, I think you are amazing for having the guts to do that and will respect you always."_

_I nodded, not entirely sure where this was going. "And I really believed that we had a future together, me and you, here. You were going to qualify as a technical assistant and come and work with me on my research expeditions throughout the galaxy. It was going to be so perfect." _

_He was listing our plans like they were a half-remembered dream, and more frighteningly in the past tense. Panic began to blossom in my stomach, but I still kept quiet. It wasn't unlike me to get the wrong end of the stick, so I had to let him finish speaking before I started making conclusions. In his defence, Roger looked incredibly conflicted and I knew whatever he was going to say was hard for him. I just wished I'd had some preparation for it, because however hard it was to him, I would take his news like a phaser blast to the head at point blank range._

_All at once his face dropped in a stony expression, and I knew he'd made whatever decision he'd been struggling with. "Brownie and I...we've been given clearance by the Starfleet Science Division to begin an exploration of the archaeological remains of alien worlds. Our remit is it collect science data and consider its' application within the federation. Our proposal has been with the council for months, I honestly thought they were going to say no..."_

_I shook my head, confused. I understood the individual words alright, but the order he spoke them perplexed me. "I don't understand. Proposal, what proposal? You never told me anything about a proposal you and Doctor Brown had sent to the Science Division. "_

_Roger looked sad, almost though he pitied me. "It was always a secret dream of mine, to study the dead worlds of forgotten civilisations and see what records exist of the treatments made by their doctors. I want to connect their past to our future and find new ways of curing people."_

_It was too much for me to take in. And maybe I was being a foolish girl, but I failed to connect his dreams with our future. "So you're going on a mission, people who work for the Federation do that all the time. You'll be back won't you?"_

_He shook his head in a slow arc. "This is a deep space mission Christine. We're looking at a decade's worth of research used for a five year mission here. We've been given the chance to become pioneers of the field. I can't possibly turn an opportunity like this down, can I?"_

"_Five years," I breathed, hoping against hope that I hadn't heard him correctly or there could be some kind of meaning that I was missing. "You're going to be gone for five years?"_

_He nodded, almost solemnly. "I know we had so many plans together, and I am so grateful for you for all the support you've given me; I know it hasn't been easy for you. And I want you to know I couldn't have done this without you. But don't you see? I have the chance to become a legend in the Science community. The entire quadrant will remember the name and exploits of Doctor Roger Korby for thousands of year to come because of this expedition!" He faced me with an almost maniacal fervour. "I can't give this up Christine, not after I've worked for so long. Not even for you."_

_Stunned was not the word for what I felt at that point. He couldn't give it up for me? Well what about everything that I had given up to be with him? Was that worth nothing? I told myself not to get into an argument about this, because I felt like he was slipping through my fingers right in front of my eyes. I didn't want to give him any reason to go willingly. "Well can't I come with you? I haven't qualified as an assistant fully yet I know, but I'm sure I could..."_

"_The council wouldn't allow it." He cut me off, making my thought sound practically foolish. "You have to be at least eighteen to be present on the mission. Besides, what use would you be to us?" The way he made the point was so cold and heartless that I felt it like a slap across the face._

"_What use?" I repeated, scandalized at the terminology. "I'm your fiancée Roger. Since when did I have to have a use to be with you?"_

"_Come on Christine, you know I didn't mean it like that." Moving out of his chair, Roger knelt down next to me and cupped my face between his hands. "I know this is hard now, and believe me I've struggled with it. But us ending the relationship now might be for the best. After the mission is completed, if we both feel the same way, then maybe we could get back together and..."_

I slapped his hands away, my voice thick with hurt. The only person I could see benefiting from the situation was him. My world was crumbling around me."What do you mean 'if' we feel the same way? What, are you planning on meeting someone else whilst you're doing your research with Doctor Brown? Is that it?"

"_Well, things happen when you're apart Christine. I don't see the logic it us maintaining a relationship when one of us is likely to get hurt during it. I could meet someone, and so could you. You're a pretty girl, I'm not unaware of that. I see how other guys look at you..."_

_Every word he spoke felt like a brand new blade thrust into my chest. "So I'm being punished because I'm pretty?"_

_He shook his head, mute apparently. I couldn't believe this was happening. Not to me. Not to me and Roger. We were supposed to be together forever, we'd promised each other that. Forsaking all others so we could be together. What had changed? Had I done something wrong?_

"_I'm just doing what's best for the both of us, Christine. In time, you'll understand that." He affirmed._

_He made it sound so reasonable, so logical that he was breaking my heart with good reason that I could have slapped him. "So that's it then. You've got it all figured out, have you? You just fly off into space, and leave me here because it's your dream. Because it would be too inconvenient to maintain a relationship with me?" Roger looked uncomfortable, like he knew he'd said the wrong thing but I couldn't stop myself. I seemed to spend my life protecting his feelings, always at the expense of my own. "You asked me to move here with you Roger, and I did it. You...you asked me to marry you and I said yes. And now...now you're telling me you're leaving me?"_

"Christine, please don't cry."

"_After everything that I went through...after everything I gave up for you, you're really going to do this to me?" A cold shock spread through my veins and I saw with the kind of clarity only a hysterical person can. "Do I mean so little to you Roger?"_

"_Oh come on Christine, let's not be childish about this." He got back to his feet, and he was brushing me off like he did with a useless lab technician. _

_I grabbed his arm to make him turn back to face me. "How do you expect me to react Roger? I'm a sixteen year old girl who has just been told that giving up my life was pointless because my fiancé had gotten a better offer. You are basically telling me your career means more to you than I do. Please explain to me how I am supposed to react."_

"_I am not going to do this you Christine." He pulled away from me and marched toward the door. I saw for the first time now a pile of cases in the hallway. It didn't take a genius to work out all his belongings were packed inside them. I was a fool to think that he'd struggled with this decision. There was never any doubt in his mind; he wouldn't have packed if I ever had a chance._

_He bent over to pick them up and moved toward the door. I stood in shocked silence as the doors parted before him, terrified that he was just going to walk out without saying a word. I had to say something, use some of my stupid, over achieving intellect to find the right words to make him stay with me. He sighed, and turned back to face me. I had a moment of reprieve, but it was fleeting. Regret stained his features, all though what he felt it for, I couldn't say. _

"_I thought you would have been more mature about this Chrissy." I swallowed in gulp, feeling the acrid taste burn the back of my throat. He sounded so disappointed in me, and I couldn't fight off the second wave of tears that came. "I've spoke to the landlord, and he said you can stay as long as you want to, but he'd like to have the property reassigned as soon as you're ready. I said you'd probably be out within the month. There's no real need to linger here any longer, is there?"_

"_Roger please..."_

"_Take care of yourself my darling, I will never forget you." As an almost afterthought, he hesitated with one foot out the door. "Don't try to contact me. I think a clean break would be for the best. Good bye."_

_And just like that, my fiancé and the man I thought was of my dreams walked out of the door and my life at the same moment. I sank to the floor as a heap of human grief, my entire world snatched from underneath me. I didn't know then how I was going to get through losing him, and in some ways I suppose I still don't._

"_...please don't leave me."_

"Please..."

The word came out as a whisper, accompanied by a solitary tear that rolled down Christine's cheek. A strangled sob echoed within her quarters, and she realised now that it was coming from her. Her fist tightened around the ring and the data stick, squeezing them until they bit into the flesh of her palms. In the next breath, Christine tore the engagement ring from her finger, and together with the message from Roger flung them across the room. The bounced off the far wall and fell down on the other side of her bed.

She lashed out again, shoving her case from her bed and spilling clothes everywhere. Grief had mutated into hurt and anger and she wanted – no needed to break something. She had to cause some havoc to give life to the hurricane of emotions that tore around her insides. If she could just make anyone, or anything feel as bad as she did now that perhaps she wouldn't be alone. Her eyes fell across the chair tucked underneath her desk, and like woman possessed she pounced upon it. Grabbing the back of the chair, she would have heaved it over her head and thrown it at the mirror had the door chime not stopped her.

Eyes wild, Christine released her grip on the chair, and smoothed her hair back from her face. Her cheeks were marred by the renewed tears she'd been crying, but she made no effort to brush them away. Making sure her robe was tied firmly around her, Christine stalked to the door. She didn't care who was standing on the other side, so long as she could scream and rant at them for as long as she needed to until she was free of her own hurt. Slamming her hand on the control panel to the door, she turned blazing blue eyes to the door as it parted in front of her, and revealed the caller.

In an instant, the desires to have something share in her misery died in a breath. She looked up into the pitying crystal blue eyes of James Kirk and melted there and then. She would have fallen to the floor if he hadn't caught her first, wrapping her in a tight embrace and holding her against his chest. The door closed behind them as they stepped into the room, Christine sobbing against his strong chest, mumbling unintelligible words that did little to explain her heartache. Kirk just held her, softly stroking her strawberry blonde hair until she quietened her cries against him. Her body trembled against him, and he stroked his hands down the length of her back to try and sooth her.

"I feel so lonely James. I can't bear to be by myself anymore." She sobbed gently, her body shaking with the effort of grief. She didn't know why she was telling him this; what good could come from exposing herself to him in this way? If he laughed at her now, well she didn't think she could survive the sadness.

"I'm here." He whispered, so quietly that Christine wasn't sure she heard him over her ragged breaths. Pulling back from her slightly, he cupped her face in his hand, thumbs tracing the well trodden paths of her tears. "You are not alone Christine."

Without words, Kirk gently scooped her up in his arms, and carried her to the empty bed.


	9. A new kind of normal

_**A/N**__: Update. A new chapter for your reading pleasure. I should really be revising for my exam tomorrow, but I couldn't really concentrate on that until I'd finished writing this. I hope you enjoy it, and please, if you're reading, leave me a review? I disclaim!_

_Please review!_

* * *

Christine didn't know how long they'd been lying there together, James resting on his back with her draped over him like a comforter. It felt like they'd been that way for a small eternity, although in reality it probably couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. She remained acutely aware of his every breath because her head rose and fell on his chest each time he took oxygen into his lungs. The beat of his heart was a constant thrum against her ear, and she found a strange kind of comfort in the regular thump.

His uniform felt a little rough against her bare skin, and the way her leg hooked over one of his made it ever more obvious as the material brushed against her inner thigh. Her silk robe was barely covering her modesty now, but she honestly wasn't bothered. When James had carried her to the bed, she'd briefly wondered what he wanted from her. As usual, she assumed the worst. Whilst she wasn't prepared to share herself in that way with anyone, not even someone as attractive as James Kirk, she doubted her own strength to resist him if that was what he wanted. And perhaps it wouldn't have been so bad, losing herself in the arms of James and for the briefest of moments feeling truly like she wasn't alone.

However James wasn't interested in taking anything at all. He simply pulled her down on the bed with him, and held her against his warm body. Words weren't important; in fact they would have only served to taint the moment. Just the simple act of silent comfort he offered her let Christine draw the strength that she'd been lacking directly from him. Perhaps she should find it alarming that she felt _so_ comfortable in his arms, considering they didn't know all that much about one another. But she couldn't deny the security that warmed her as James' arms wrapped around her from what felt like all sides. The way he hugged her gently against his broad chest made her feel safer than she ever had. Perhaps it took something like this to make her realise that she'd been missing that sense of security for a while, and now that she had it she wasn't sure she could give it up. That led to an uncomfortable realisation of how likely it was for her to keep Kirk as close as he was now, but that was a worry she could deal with later. Nothing could touch her for now, as long as she was within Kirk's embrace.

Christine could have easily let herself float away on the warmth of his body, away from the pain and the heartache of the day and never come back to it again. Even Kirk seemed to be at peace with her, making no effort to push her away although a nagging thought told Christine he probably had more important places to be than here, comforting her.

As she drew strength from him, so did the mist of grief begin to lift itself from her senses. The room seemed to come back into focus, colour and angles appearing just a little sharper than they had been before. The bundle of emotions she felt at the death of her friends and fellow officers, and the pain of the memories associated with Roger began to loosen their vice grip on her heart. Christine felt James' hands glide up and down her back and it gave her something to focus on. His thumbs traced the slight impression where the muscles of her back met her spine, his fingers happy to explore the folds of her robe. There was nothing salacious about his touch; rather it was a soothing pattern that calmed her nerves so she could reason again.

Lifting her own hand up, she caught his palm and lifted it up for her inspection. Her creamy brow furrowed as she noted the bandage that had been wrapped around his hand. So concerned with her own well being, she had not even noticed that he touched her with an injured hard. All at once she remembered that he'd been on an away mission to Vulcan. She remembered one of the security officers telling during her battle to save the Enterprise crew members that Vulcan only had minutes left before it was destroyed by the Romulan drill. At the time, that had meant little to her and she felt guilty for being too wrapped up in her own grief to care. But now that she had shared in James' silent strength, she could just about comprehend what it meant for a planet to vanish from the skies, at least as well as any mortal being could understand such things. She wanted to ask him about it, but something about the grim set to his jaw suggested that he wasn't ready to talk about that particular mission just yet.

"You've hurt your hand." Christine's voice was soft, but she recognised the rasp the constant crying had left her with. It had a husky quality, and she still sounded as exhausted as she'd felt hours ago.

His blue eyes blinked at her in surprise, probably because that had been the first thing she'd said since he'd come to her. "Nothing serious. You should see the other guy." James twitched his fingers to demonstrate the fact that he was okay. Both his cerulean blue eyes sparkled with mischief at the mention of the potential opponent he'd fought on Vulcan. "Bones repaired the damage. This is just until the muscles settle down."

Holding his injured hand between both of hers, Christine softly manipulated his fingers. "Are the Captain, Sulu and Olsen okay?"

"Captain Pike was abducted by the Romulans." James hesitated, and she knew she'd said the wrong thing. "We lost Olsen." Kirk's face suddenly dropped in such unimaginable sadness that Christine felt his hurt as thought it was her own. The expression that one could hold the weight of the world on their shoulders never seemed more true to Christine than it did now. James seemed to hold all the guilt of Olsen's death in the same way Christine did with her patients, although neither of them were responsible for either loss. In a strange way, just knowing someone shared in her guilty grief, Christine felt closer to James than she had to anyone else in a long time.

Lifting his hand closer, she placed the tips of his fingers to her lips and kissed softly. His fingers were surprisingly smooth, considering he was a hands on, physical kind of man. He watched her, biting down onto his bottom lips as the feather-light touch of her lips caressed his aching hand.

"I'm sorry."She whispered. More than anyone else on the ship, Christine probably knew the struggle Kirk was dealing with.

James nodded, tightening his grip on her lower back and his fingers kneaded the flesh within his reach. "Bones told me what happened in the Medical Bay." Obviously a subject change, because he didn't want to discuss Olsen. However she didn't want to talk about what had happened that afternoon either. "I'm sorry you had to deal with that, on your first mission. It can't have been easy for you."

Instead of drawing comfort from his words, Christine bristled. The last thing she wanted was to be patronized by him. "I'm not made from glass James." She insisted. "I won't break because I've had a hard day doing my job."

The truth was she felt beyond breaking point, like she'd already shattered somehow and couldn't work out how to put the pieces of herself back together again. But however safe he could make her feel, Christine couldn't shake the idea that admitting she was struggling to cope would make her appear weak in his eyes. She tried to pull away from him then, to put some space between his concerned gaze and her own burning guilt. He wouldn't let her, instead cupping her chin with his bandaged hand. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm just worried about you. No-one can take that much loss in one day and not be affected by it. Even the toughest of officers feel lost sometimes."

"I'm fine." It was a lie, but the thought of being vulnerable in front of him now was so unappealing she couldn't bring herself to tell the truth. Why did his opinion matter so much? What did it matter if she did crumble under the stress anyway? No-one could blame her after what she'd dealt with, could they? She was a third year Cadet, not a tenured Nurse of Starfleet. Why should she care if James thought any less of her? It wasn't like they'd see each other once the ship had returned to earth anyway.

Christine knew he was waiting for her to look him in the eye, and she did so after much refusal. "What do you want me to say James? That I completely lost it in the Medical Bay when patients and Doctors were depending on me to do my job? That I've spent my whole life preparing for a day like this, and at the first hint of trouble I completely crumbled into a complete mess because friends of mine lost their lives whilst performing their duties?" The tears were threatening to come back again, but she wouldn't let them fall in front of him. "If you want the truth, I'm completely ashamed of myself. I should have been able to deal with this; it's what I've been trained to do."

"There's no shame in being human Christine," he said softly, his hands reaching to her neck and stroking the soft down of hair hidden at the nape. "I don't know anyone who could have done what you did today and not feel it. Most people would have walked out as soon as the casualties started coming in, especially when those hurt were your friends. But you stood your ground and helped as many people as you could. Where is the shame in that?"

She was successful in pulling away now, and Christine slid over to the edge of the bed to perch on the corner. Even though her back was to him, she could feel his eyes remain on her. What was the point in lying? He could easily see through her, so she may as well say what she feared was the truth at let him scorn her because of it. "I should've done better James. I should have saved everyone. What kind of physician can I be if so many patients died under my care? I'm just not good enough, am I?"

The bed shifted under Kirk's weight as he moved across to her. Parting his legs, he slid them over the sides of the bed so they rested on her either side, his groin pressed lightly against her. From behind, his arms wrapped around her in a tight hug and his chin fell into it's now favourite place of the curve between her shoulder and neck. It was an almost inappropriate intimateness that they shared; his legs parted and her bottom pressed against him in their wake, but neither made the effort to break the contact.

"Stop beating yourself up Christine," he whispered, his lips leaving a ghost of sensation on her neck just below her ear, "you have to accept the fact that you cannot save everybody that comes through the doors of the Medical Bay. And if you can't do that, then no, you're not good enough to be a nurse." His honesty was brutal, but Christine appreciated his candour. "I know you did everything you could to save those people, and Bones cannot stop talking about how well you acquitted yourself today. You couldn't have done anymore, so you have to forgive yourself. Let it go Christine, all the guilt that you're feeling. It doesn't do any good to keep in inside, trust me I know."

Christine relaxed back against his hard body, even as her voice betrayed her thoughts. "How can I let it go when the deaths of those people are on my conscious? I may not have fired the torpedoes, but I didn't save all my patients, did I?"

"Death is as natural a part of life as birth is." He philosophised. "You can't be human without having both. Those people lost their lives in the service of Starfleet, in the protection of Vulcan. If you ask me, there is no better way to go. And I'll bet their families would agree. Death is never easy Christine, but it will come to us all. Those people are defined by their professional conduct as officers, not the way in which we lost them."

She was surprised at how calmly James spoke. From the body of a twenty-five year old Starfleet Cadet came the voice of a tenured war veteran, a true leader of men. Christine caught a glimpse of the man that Kirk could become, and realised there was no other officer that she would be more proud to serve under – if he ever made it to the rank of Captain.

"How do you cope with the loss James? What option is there apart from closing yourself off to emotion so you don't feel hurt every time you lose someone? Do the Vulcan's really have it right? Is it better to suppress how you feel so you can actually do your job without falling apart?" Christine twisted around in his arms to face him. She looked up into his handsome stoic face, and realised how much she was depending on him to tell her it would be alright. "How do we go back to normal?"

"Honestly?" Kirk replied, and she nodded, desperate now more than ever for his unrelenting truth. "You can't. Normal as it was before you came face to face with death doesn't exist anymore. It can't, otherwise you'd be denying it ever happened in the first place. But the hurt fades in time and you do learn from the experience because it becomes a part of you. You will find a new kind of normal, I promise you Christine. Just give yourself time to grieve for those that you've lost first."

Without thinking, Christine placed her hands on Kirk's thighs and pushed herself upwards. Her lips came into contact with his jaw, and she kissed him softly. Gratitude flooded her, and she knew now that maybe she would survive this and maybe even come back stronger for it.

"Thank you," she whispered, her hands bunching the tight muscles of his thighs beneath her palms.

Kirk lowered his head to meet her, his mouth barely an inch from hers. His serene blue eyes filled her vision and his masculine warmth enveloped her. "You're welcome." He breathed against her, the trail of his breath caressing her lips where she so wanted to feel his mouth, his hand tightening around her.

Just as Christine prepared to abandon rational thought and kiss his mouth like her life depended on it, Kirk groaned softly and slumped a little to the side. His arms relaxed around her, and his breathing came in sharp gasps. Twisting around, Christine straddled his waist without thinking, eyes searching for the source of his pain.

"What's wrong James? Where are you hurt?" She automatically knew he was injured, despite her own empathy for the man; she was first and foremost a nearly qualified nurse. She knew that he had another injury apart from his bandaged hand. Either McCoy had missed it during the examination...or Kirk had neglected to mention it when they'd wrapped his hand in bandages. Something told her Kirk's ego would be more likely that McCoy's incompetence.

"Shoulder," he hissed between clenched teeth, "be...okay...in a...second. Just...a little tight..."

He tried unsuccessfully to roll his right shoulder, and clearly couldn't raise his arm much at all. Automatically Christine reached for his neck and shoulders, her hands testing and probing the slab of muscles to locate the injury. Her fingers slid across each muscle in turn, testing them for tears and sprains. The contact created an image in her mind of the muscles in Kirk's body and how they linked together, highlighting potential sites of injury in vivid colour. Her skilled fingers reached around to the back of his neck, carefully checking the spine for any sign of damage. Satisfied that it wasn't anything as serious, she gave Kirk a bemused look.

"Does this hurt?" She softly exerted pressure on the muscle that ran down from the back of his neck and onto his shoulder. Kirk winced, and Christine relaxed back into a seated position on his lap. "You've sprained the Trapezius muscle on your right shoulder," she stated confidently, "why didn't you tell Doctor McCoy when you were in the Medical Bay? He could have dealt with it easily."

"It didn't feel so bad then," James replied, having the sense to look a little sheepish under her heavy gaze, "and I didn't want to bother him over something so minor if I could put up with the discomfort. Besides, it'll heal itself won't it?"

"We have the technology to heal the sprain, and yet you'd rather suffer with the pain. Is this some macho thing where you can cope with pain because you're _such _a man?" Kirk's eyes widened, and Christine giggled, knowing she'd hit the nail on the head. "Let's see how tough you are when the muscle goes into spasm." Despite her hard medical tone, Christine couldn't help but smirk. "Hold still and I'll relieve some of the tension."

Rising up onto her knees, Christine surreptitiously checked to make sure her robe was still fastened, as Kirk was now face to face with her chest. One slip of the material, and things would get more intimate than either of them had bargained for. Placing her hands on Kirk's right shoulder, Christine realized that it was broader than she'd fantasised because her hands could not cup the entire area. Extending her fingers, she began to alternately pinch and roll the muscle, varying her pressure as she moved up and down the from Kirk's shoulder and neck.

Eyes closed, Kirk moaned deep in his throat in response as the tension began to ease out of his shoulder. The muscle was unrelenting at first, but gradually the stiffness began to work itself out under Christine's skilled hands. "That feels...so good..."

"It's based on a Vulcan technique I studied," Christine intoned in a low voice, "they use neuropressure on the nerve bundle in this muscle to render someone unconscious. I found that if you modified the pressure points and the grip you used, it had certain properties that stimulated blood flow to the neck and shoulder muscles."

"It's, uh, stimulating blood flow alright." Kirk flushed, red colouring his cheeks forcing him to look anywhere but her face. Christine laughed, and began running her thumbs down the back of Kirk's neck. With his face turned to the side, he gently rested his head against her chest as his hands found her hips to hold onto. His hands tightened and relaxed on her waist every time she pressed against the tight muscle, inch by inch loosening it until the pain had become less than noticeable.

Resting back on his lap, Christine kept her hands on his shoulders. At eye level with him now, she could see the sparkle in his eyes and the flushed complexion he had. "Does that feel any better?"

Kirk nodded, licking his lips as his eyes devoured the sight of her face. "Much better, thank you. You're really very good with your hands."

"You have no idea." Christine smiled, innocently referring to her expertise in the massage techniques of a dozen differently worlds. James cleared his throat, both his hands pulling Christine's hips ever so slightly forward to close the gap between them.

"Maybe I should come and see you directly the next time I'm in need of medical attention," he said softly, leaning closer toward her. His eyes never left her lips, and his own mouth parted slightly as she bit down gently on the bottom one, worrying the lip with her teeth. "Bones' beside manner sucks. I can see that you're very dedicated to the people under your care."

"Absolutely," Christine breathed, feeling herself leaning closer again. His lips were like a magnet, and the closer she got to him the stronger the pull she felt. She desperately wanted to know what it felt like to kiss those lips, and her desire was easily winning the internal war against her better judgement telling her not to mix her professional concern with frivolous lust. "I know a lot of different techniques that may come in handy to stimulate your blood flow."

Perhaps that last comment hadn't been made in such innocence, and Christine could feel her own cheeks colouring at the laced meaning in her words. It was clear to her now Kirk brought out her daring side; that she felt safe around him enough to be confident and express herself in ways she'd never dreamed she could before.

"Do you do house calls?" Kirk whispered, taking charge and moving closer to her mouth. His hands slid up her back until the palms caressed her shoulder blades, exerting the slightest amount of pressure as he pulled her closer to him.

Her own hands moved from his shoulders, to form a loop around his neck. Her hands rested at the nape of his neck, and she softly slid her fingers into the short crop of hair he had. "I guess I could be persuaded." She smiled, tilting her head just to the side so that her strawberry blonde hair shifted to expose more of her neck.

"I like a challenge." Kirk admitted, eyes burning with molten desire.

The look was reflected in Christine's, and she breathed in exquisite anticipation as she realised her fantasies were about to be met. Any concern about the propriety of what was about to happen was forgotten, as the most important thing to Christine now was to kiss that sensual mouth like she'd been dying to do since the moment they'd first spoken.

Just as her eyes began to fall closed, Christine spotted the engagement ring she'd thrown in anguish earlier. It sparkled brilliantly against the carpeted floor, where it had landed after bouncing off the back wall. The sight of the ring acted like a bucket of cold of water being thrown over her, and she suddenly remembered where she was and who she was with. More importantly, Christine realised with horror what she was about to do. Images of Roger clouded her vision, and how much she'd hurt after he'd walked out on her. She couldn't risk getting involved like that again, and whatever was happening between herself and Kirk was likely to be the beginning of something Christine wasn't ready to cope with. She wasn't this kind of girl, and she knew she was betraying every promise she'd ever made to herself after Roger had walked out on her four years ago.

For his part, James' eyes looked lidded and ready to fall closed as his lips parted to meet hers. There was no space between them, and she could feel the beat of his heart pounding in excitement through the thin folds of the silk robe covering her.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to the bridge?" She squeaked, toes curling in shock as she realised now how close she'd come to kissing James Kirk. Christine wasn't sure if she was angry or relieved that she'd stopped it from happening. Probably it was a little of both, but she couldn't resist one last longing look at his delectable mouth, the burn of anticipation slowly fading in her stomach.

"Uh, what?" Clearly with his mind on other things, James managed to pry his eyes open again. He looked dazed; his pupils dilated and with a faraway look colouring his brilliant blue eyes.

"The bridge, don't you think they'll be missing you now?" She repeated, thinking that she would have to figure out a way to get off his lap without it appearing uncomfortable and awkward. "Shouldn't you and Spock be figuring out a way to get the Captain back?"

"Sure." James blinked. "Yes, you're right." With every word, Kirk sounded like he was waking up from a sluggish slumber and coming back to his senses. He finally leaned back again, and Christine instantly felt the loss of his closeness like she'd been thrown into a deep freezer.

"And I should probably get back to the Medical Bay. Doctor McCoy will need my assistance." Christine sounded as serious as she could, slowly dropping her arms from his shoulders in as natural a movement as she could muster given the circumstances. It was rapidly descending into one of the most awkward moments of her life, and she wondered whether she should have simply allowed herself to kiss James and forget the consequences. He didn't seem to care if they were behaving inappropriately, why should she?

_He hasn't got as much to lose as you,_ a bitter voice reminded her. _You already lost one future because of your feelings for Roger. Don't let lust for James Tiberius Kirk blindside you now. You're here to be a nurse, not get involved with a Cadet who probably has a girl waiting for him on every deck._

Christine hated that voice, but knew that it made sense. Laughing awkwardly, Christine slipped off Kirk's lap and off the bed entirely, telling herself she was doing the right thing by keeping her distance. She took a few steps away toward the exit to her quarters, looking anywhere but at him. Kirk watched her move, and took it as a sign that he was being asked to leave. Getting to his feet, he offered her a weak smile, straightening his shirt and successfully rolling his shoulders.

"I guess I should be going," he said with a shy smile as he moved past her to the door. The sensor activated and the doors parted, allowing him a way out, "thank you for my shoulder, it feels great."

Christine nodded, clasping her hands in front of her and feeling awkward in her own skin." You're very welcome. And thank you for listening to me earlier, I really appreciated having someone to talk to."

Kirk inclined his head, letting her know she was welcome to his help anytime she required it. Realising nothing more was going to be said, he exhaled deeply and turned to walk out of the quarters. Just as Christine was about to release the breath she held as the doors began to move closed, Kirk's arm prevented them from coming together. His hand grasped one of the doors, forcing them to part once more. He stepped back into the room, his eyes full of confusion as he focused his gaze on Christine again.

"I have to go and speak to Spock now," he explained, "but I'd like to...if you wouldn't mind...I mean what I'm trying to say is..." Kirk smiled, obviously a little embarrassed that he couldn't articulate himself as well as he'd like to. "May I come and see you later? Tonight perhaps?"

He looked hopeful, and Christine almost descended into a panic attack right there and then. This was now getting too far. A little heavy flirting and almost kissing was one thing, but to actually agree to meet each other? That was more than Christine was prepared to agree to, and she knew that she couldn't trust herself not to mount him if they came into close quarters again. There were only so many times a girl could deny her attraction for someone as delicious as James Kirk before she gave in to her passions with wild abandon.

Obviously her thoughts were written on her face as Kirk straightened, standing to his full height. The warmth his expression usually held for her melted away into a mask of cold detachment. "Forget I said anything. Nurse Chapel."

Christine's mouth dropped open at the ice in his voice, but the words to make him stay so she could explain herself died in his throat. Glumly, she watched Kirk exit the quarters and the doors closing on the sight of his retreating back. Sighing, Christine raised her hand as she intended to brush it back through her hair. She held it at eye level now, as she realised for the first time that she was shaking. The anticipation of what might have happened wasn't so easy to let go, and the nurse took several deep breaths to calm the pounding of her heart in her chest.

She couldn't help but question whether she was doing the right thing. Maybe she was misreading Kirk entirely, but it seemed that he genuinely liked her. He'd had more than ample opportunity to try and take things a step further with her, but hadn't progressed any further than a few _almost _kisses. And the truth was, however much she tried to deny it, Christine wanted to experience that kiss probably more than he did. Regardless of what people said about him, Kirk had been nothing but a perfect gentleman around her and aside from a cheeky sense of humour was the complete opposite to the womanizer people gossiped that he was. Would it be such a risk to give herself what she wanted? At least that way she could hopefully get James Kirk out of her system for good so she could focus on her job as a Nurse.

However she resolved the situation with Kirk, one thing was clear. If she didn't do something soon, she would probably spontaneously combust from the heat of desire.

Huffing out a breath, Christine removed her silk robe and headed back to the shower room. Intending to increase the harmonics of the sonic shower, she knew she'd need the Starfleet equivalent of a cold shower before she was fit to go back to duty.


	10. Defiance

_**A/N**_: _Update! The exam is done, the assignment is due Friday and I have a new chapter for your reading pleasure. I'll be honest and say this one may polarize some of you purists as I've taken some artistic license. That being said, it isn't anything that wasn't eluded to in this film or featured in one of the others. Confused? Read and find out! And I know I say this every time, but if you read this chapter, please review it? Reviews are love, and make me want to update all the faster._

_I own nothing. I disclaim. Please read and review._

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_Procrastination. To defer action, to delay, to put off until another day or time._

That was the definition of what Christine was doing, if her understanding of the word was as solid as she felt it was. She was absolutely doing anything she could possibly conceive of to not make the journey to the Medical Bay where she knew she was supposed to be.

So far, she'd managed to dress and undress in her Cadet's uniform almost half a dozen times and fuss with her hair until it was so teased and crimped and caked in hair product that she had no choice but to bundle the crispy mess into a lump at the back of her head. Even her Starfleet issue boots could not be polished anymore. They were so shiny now, Christine wondered whether or not she would blind someone if they caught reflection of light off her shoe. That or she'd rubbed so hard that the leather had been eroded away.

Once the routine of getting ready had been stretched out as far as humanly possible, Christine had taken to the scenic route around the Enterprise to the Medical Bay. In actually fact, she'd been on every deck bar the one which the bay was located. She'd seen the inside of every Turbo lift on board, visited decks she'd never set foot on before including a visit to the nacelle maintenance room where she'd caught a Cadet sleeping on the job.

She knew she couldn't put off going back to work any longer, yet she couldn't seem to give herself the stimulus to actually get there. Her latest delaying technique had been to hold the Turbolift on the deck above the Medical Bay. It had been at least ten minutes, and sooner or later someone was going to notice that the carriage wasn't arriving and start making efforts to find out why. But until Christine could figure out why she was avoiding her duty however, the carriage wasn't moving anywhere.

With her back pressed against the wall, Christine took deep breaths in, feeling her chest strain against the material of her uniform each time. She was surprisingly calm, considering her normal reaction to stressful situations. In reality, she was probably emotionally drained from the events of the day, and didn't have the capacity to feel complex feelings anymore. _Oh to be a Vulcan,_ she mused miserably. She knew, at least partly the reason why she didn't want to back to work was because the Bay would forever be connected to the deaths that occurred whilst she was there. Lawton, Valance and all the others had spent their last moments on the tables under glare of the bright lights and stench of disinfectant. They were as much a part of that room as the Doctors that served within it were. Christine knew she'd have to accept that before she could ever return to duty.

That wasn't the only thing holding her back though. Perhaps the worst thought were the faces she was bound to see; the concerned and sympathetic glances saved for the pathetic little nineteen year old girl who had cried like a child when things got tough. She couldn't take the sympathy or the whispers, she knew that much. Christine didn't want people feeling sorry for her, or telling her how brave she was. Being patronized was a sure fire way to make her lash out.

Yet every eye was likely to be on her now, because she'd make such a fool of herself earlier. Common sense told her to ignore it; that people were only going to try being supportive during a trying time. But their support was more like a weight of expectation on Christine. They expected her to do her job, and quite rightly expected her to crumble again. She didn't want that to be true, but was sensible enough to recognise she was as likely to have a breakdown as she was to carry out her duties. And whatever happened to her, she'd have to get through it with a friendly smile all Nurses were supposed to wear for their patients.

For the first time in her life, Christine regretted ever getting involved with Medical Science.

Hitting the button on the lift controls, the carriage whirred back to life and propelled her to the next deck. The doors parted, and a group of curious faces looked at her. Forcing her mouth into a smile that didn't reach her eyes, Christine brushed through the small crowd of Cadets without making eye contact. Only Christine didn't have to look at them to hear the surprised whispers at seeing her on deck and in uniform. She wanted to turn around and demand whether this was the first time they'd ever seen a Nurse reporting for duty before, but thought better of it. Better to keep a low profile and not humiliate herself again in one day, if at all possible.

Tilting her head back at a painful angle, she marched down the hallway, repeating a mantra in her head that she could do this and that people's opinion didn't matter to her. Christine didn't even stop at the entrance to the Medical Bay, only continuing to plough onward. The forward motion was the only thing keeping her going now, and if she hesitated or stopped she knew she wouldn't have the strength to get started again. The large grey panelled doors to the Medical Bay opened for her as her presence triggered the sensors. Any fear she had of everyone staring at her was short lived, as a scene of chaos was unfolding before her eyes.

Two Starfleet security officers were propping up the slack body of Kirk. He looked unconscious, his head dropped forward against his chest and legs completely loose. And once again, Christine lost herself into contours of an unconscious Kirk's body. The way they held him under the arms made his biceps bulge ludicrously round, and the black shirt of his uniform lifted slightly to reveal a tantalizing strip of tanned, taut flesh. In front of the security goons, with their backs against the medical cabinet were two Cadets, clearly anxious about something and bickering between themselves. They clearly couldn't be left alone for five minutes because they always resorted to arguing. Christine had to get closer to hear what they were saying, and was shocked when she could make out the thread of the conversation.

"...check with Doctor McCoy. I'm not sure if we're authorised to do this. I think there's a Starfleet protocol against – "

"Don't quote protocol at me boy, just follow orders." The Security officer on the left of Kirk was a thick set man, with a sloping forehead made all the more obvious by thinning brown hair. He had deep set eyes that looked a little too close together on his face. He was a man of authority and clearly one to follow order to the letter and expect others to do the same. And for whatever reason the Cadet was refusing, it was preventing him from completing those commands. "Acting Captain Spock has told us exactly what needs to be done. Do you want to report to him and be responsible for completely ignoring his orders? Do you? We can call the Acting Captain down here, if you'd like?"

The Cadet looked like he was facing a firing squad, eyes darting from each of the security officers to the other Cadet at his side. Whatever these _orders_ were, he was completely ill at ease with carrying them out, but was rapidly losing the battle with no-one to support him. Just as his fearful grey eyes fell on Christine as she approached from behind, her voice shocked everyone in the room.

"Excuse me if I appear demanding, but would one of you gentleman please explain to me what is going on in here?" Christine moved past the officers to stand with the other Medical Staff. At her place in front of them, she made a quick visual examination of Kirk. He was definitely out for the count.

"As I was just explaining to your fellow Cadets, ma'am –"

"Nurse Chapel," Christine interrupted the stocky officer, "and you weren't so much explaining as threatening, at least that's how it appeared to me."

The officer narrowed his eyes, looking every inch the cornered, venomous snake that Christine assessed him to be. Obviously he didn't like others questioning him or his infallible orders. "What I was explaining Nurse, is that Acting Captain Spock has ordered Mister Kirk here to be removed from the ship for attempted mutiny." Christine's head exploded with shock and fury, but her face remained the schooled, calm expression of a professional. "The Acting Captain told us to bring him down here and make sure he remains sedated for his little trip to Delta Vega. However, those two are messing me around and stopping me from carrying out my orders. Now, if you don't mind Nurse in pumping this sorry carcass full of the good stuff so we can stuff him in a 'pod and blast him down onto the Planet's surface."

"Absolutely..." Christine replied. Turning on her heel, she ignored the scandalized expressions of her colleagues and reached for the medical cabinet. Tapping a few commands into the control panel, the sound of a lock clicking into place echoed in the room. "...not. I will not allow you to illegally drug that man and remove him from this ship. That is tantamount to a war crime, and it will happen over my dead body."

"We have our orders," the officer growled, leering forward at the strawberry blonde haired nurse, "and you would do well to follow them missy. This is how it works on a Starship. The commissioned officers say jump, you Cadet rats say how high. Now all of you stop wasting my time and unlock that cabinet this instant. And you can treat that as a direct order."

"Order all you want," Christine replied, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes, "according to Starfleet Medical Protocol Section ten, sub-section three, paragraph five, the senior medical officer attending the Medical Bay has full jurisdiction over any and all medication applied to both shipmates and prisoners on board Starships, irrespective of rank or higher level orders." Christine glanced at the two Cadets on either side of her. "And as these two gentlemen are first years, that senior medical officer would be me. So you can't _order_ me to do _anything_." The security officer's face began to turn scarlet with rage, and Christine simply smiled. "As I said, I will not allow you to access any medical materials on this ship, and I don't care who your orders come from."

Turning to his colleague, the security officer practically shook with fury. "Get the Captain down here _now_!"

Bellowing the last word, the second security officer took off at a run for the door, leaving his superior officer with the weight of Kirk. Christine desperately wanted to go to him, to check that he was okay and the reason for his unconsciousness. However she couldn't afford to show personal attachment to James, not with the fascist security officer scowling at her. He was breathing normally by the looks of things, and there was no evidence of physical trauma. She had to assume that he was okay. If only she could say the same for herself.

This was going to be a test of her professionalism, Christine could tell. And she refused to lose her cool over this, especially as she was about to faced with a seriously disgruntled Vulcan.

Soon enough, the doors to the Medical Bay parted, and the security officer returned on the heels of Acting Captain Spock, Cadet Sulu and an ashen faced Uhura. Straightening her back and clasping her hands together in front of her, Christine found Doctor McCoy notable by his absence, but then couldn't imagine him every agreeing to this course of action in the first place. He and James were friends, and he couldn't possibly be a part of this heinous decision to banish Kirk from the Enterprise for insubordination, could he?

"Nurse Chapel," Spock intoned in his usual dispassionate, precise voice, "Officer Munroe tells me you are deliberately violating my direct order and preventing he and the Security Chief from carrying out their duty as I have directed it to them. Please explain you behaviour immediately."

Christine took a step forward, not afraid to look up into the face of Spock and stare him down eye to eye. She would not be intimidated by the freezing fire in his eyes or the mountain of logical thought she was up against. "Captain Spock, you cannot seriously be consenting to the removal of James Kirk off the ship. He may have been guilty of unprofessional conduct, but that doesn't warrant being jettisoned off onto a planet we have no colony on and no guarantee of his safety."

"On the contrary Nurse, we have a Starfleet outpost on Delta Vega manned by experienced Engineering officers. They will locate the signal from his Escape Pod and take him to safety, of that you can be sure." Spock arched an eyebrow. "I will ask you to remove the lock on the medical supply cupboard and administer a sedative to keep the Cadet pliable until his secure containment by the operatives on the planet."

"No," Christine fired back, stepping her legs apart slightly as though she was squaring up against the Vulcan. "I will do no such thing. Whatever he is guilty of doing Captain, his punishment must be relevant to the crime."

"Expulsion is suitable for the crime of mutiny, Nurse Chapel." Spock replied, completely devoid of emotion.

"Maybe during Earth's naval history, but this is nothing short of barbarism." Taking a step back, Christine placed herself between the medical supplies and Captain Spock. She noted with some dismay that the two medical cadets had moved away to stand with Sulu and Uhura. "I will not allow you to do this, not least because it violates protocol on the treatment of mutineers. Contain him onboard if you must, but he stays on the ship."

"I will note any official objections you have in the ship's official log," Spock began, the tiniest hint of frustration creeping into his voice, "but you are violating a direct order from your superior officer at this moment Nurse Chapel. Your continued refusal will lead to a court martial and potentially a dishonourable discharge from Starfleet, if you do not release the lock on the cabinet and administer the sedative as ordered." Despite her heart pounding in her chest, Christine shook her head mutely. Once again, her entire future was crumbling before her eyes; all because of a man she had the misfortune to get involved with. Would she never learn from her mistakes? Roger Korby had cost her one future, and James Kirk looked set to cost her the next.

_No, that's not it! _She reminded herself. _This is not about James; this is about what is right and wrong. And what Spock is doing is wrong. I would defend any member of the crew if they were facing the same sentence. My feelings for him are irrelevant to this situation._

As she was trying to process the admission that she had feelings for Kirk, Christine could feel the tension in the room increasing. Everyone looked uncomfortable, and perhaps a little panicked.

"I believe you are confusing your personal feelings for James Kirk with your duty Nurse." Christine turned a fiery glare on Uhura at his word, and she had the sense to look sheepish. Obviously Christine's attraction to Kirk had been a topic of conversation at some point between them. Feeling betrayed by her friend, Christine reserved her anger for Spock. "You are doing yourself a disservice be refusing to follow orders. This is your last opportunity to comply. Release the lock and administer the sedative to Kirk or you will be relieved of your duty Nurse Chapel."

"Christine please," Nyota begged, hands reaching out for her friend, "just do as he says. You career isn't worth sacrificing over him."

Uhura motioned toward the sleeping Kirk, and Christine simply shrugged her shoulders. "I cannot believe you support this decision Uhura," Christine didn't care her voice betrayed her hurt. Uhura looked embarrassed, but it made no different to the Nurse. Just because everyone else had apparently signed on the dotted line to banish James, she would not stand idly by and let them get away with it. "I would do the same for any member of this crew."

"Then you are an irrational being Nurse Chapel," Spock interjected, "as there is no logic in disobeying a direct order for no reason other than human emotion. I remind you that you will face a court martial for refusing to do as ordered."

"Do what you feel is necessary Captain Spock," Christine admitted sadly, knowing she was defeated now, "but I will not be an accessory to this shameful course of action." Lifting her head to gaze directly at Spock and the Security Chief, Christine physically made a show of standing her ground. "I will not release the lock on the medical supplies and I will not administer any kind of sedative to James Kirk. I suggest we bring Doctor McCoy down to sickbay and allow him to voice his opinion on this."

"The Doctor has already acquiesced to my decided course of action," the Vulcan replied, adopting a more formal stance. Christine was floored by the admission, but Spock wasn't finished. "Nurse Christine Chapel, due to your repeated refusal to follow orders from your Acting Captain, you are officially relieved of your duty on board this ship, effectively immediately."

Feeling her bottom lip begin to tremble, Christine resolutely refused to give in to her tears. She would not give Spock or anyone else the satisfaction of knowing they'd penetrated her defences and broken what little resurgent strength she'd claimed. It didn't matter that she was upset, as Spock was clearly finished with her anyway. Turning to the Cadets who were all but cowering behind Sulu, he addressed them directly.

"You two please release the locking mechanism on the cabinet and administer the sedative."

Christine moved as if she would intercept them, but a look communicated between Spock and the security officer made it clear if she tried any such action, she would be dealt with accordingly. And the stormy expression on the large Security Chief's face told her it was likely to be painful.

She stepped out of the way of the Cadet, who looked ashamed of himself and unable to meet her eye as he did as he was ordered. He reached for the command pad and tapped in a code, and Christine had to turn away. His fingers drummed in a repeated set of keys, and each time nothing happened. Christine winced as she knew what was coming next.

"Uh, Captain Spock? I can't...open the cabinet." He turned a bewildered stare onto the Vulcan. "I think Nurse Chapel changed the code, it isn't accepting the standard Starfleet Medical command sequence to unlock. I...I can't get inside unless she unlocks it."

Lifting her head, Christine saw the stare Spock was giving her. If she didn't know any better, she'd say the Vulcan was furious with her. But that wasn't possible, was it? Spock was to all intents and purposes a Vulcan. He wasn't affected by such trivial emotions, was he?

"Miss Chapel," he said slowly, taking an advancing step toward her, eyes threateningly dark, "you will unlock the cabinet immediately."

"I will not." Well, she wasn't going to back down now that she'd been suspended from duty, was she? They only way Spock was getting into that cabinet was with a phaser, as far as she was concerned. After all, he could only suspend her once.

"You will open it," he growled, earning curious stares from everyone present, not least of all Christine. Vulcans usually kept and even tone to their voice. That certainly wasn't an emotionally balanced Vulcan talking. "Or...Or I will have to..."

"Have to do what Captain Spock?" Christine spat, unable to contain herself. "Maroon me on the planet along with Kirk? After all, that's what we do with people who disagree with your command, isn't it? Blast them off ship? This isn't a chain of command, this is a dictatorship!" Christine knew she wasn't doing herself any favours by speaking out of turn. But the entire situation was ludicrous. Spock clearly wasn't thinking normally, because there should be no way a course of action as radical as expelling a member of the crew would have entered his steel-trap mind under the usual circumstances.

The nurse wondered if the stress of the recent mission was finally getting to the Vulcan acting Captain. It would explain a lot, but she knew better than to suggest he wasn't fit for duty in front of his subordinate crew.

"I will have to..." The Vulcan didn't look like he had a threat to level against her for the moment, but obviously decided on one quickly as he glared at her with an eerily calm stare. "...I will have to take the code from you by force."

What happened next seemed to occur in slow motion, so much so that Christine actually thought time had slowed down to a crawl for the moment. Spock reached out for her, his fingers slightly parted to initiate a Vulcan mind meld. Christine had studied Vulcan mental techniques enough to recognise the grip he was creating, and to know that he could literally rip the knowledge from her brain if he wanted to. But what shocked Christine to the core was that Spock was so willing to use such violating measures to get what he wanted from her. This was not the man Uhura had spent night after night declaring her love for, or the firm but fair Academy instructor who had taught her Second Year Botany at the Academy. She didn't know this man who wanted to assault her anymore, and he frightened her.

Even as Spock reached for her, Christine flung herself backward, her back colliding with the cabinet, her hands clutching at the counter.

"Spock! Stop it!"

Christine didn't know who had spoken; the voice sounded like it was coming from so far away. She only knew it had been Uhura's startled cry as everyone turned to face her. Spock had frozen mid lunge, half turning his head to the sound of her voice and seeing the horrified expression on her face. His hand hung in the ether between himself and Christine. His fingers were stretched and tensed, ready to probe her thoughts against her will and Christine felt her chest scream at the pressure of the breath she held. After what felt like forever, Spock lowered his hand and returned to a formal standing posture.

Nobody dared to move, or even breath. The room was beginning to spin for Christine, and her head begged her to release the breath and take a new one. She did so, exhaling with a _'whoosh'_ that seemed to bring everyone out of their trance.

Spock regarded her with cold dispassion that made Christine cringe against the cabinet behind her. "Munroe, Willis. Get Kirk off this ship. The Starfleet officers can deal with him as they find him." Christine swallowed in a gulp, fully expecting to be told she was joining James on his journey. "Chapel, you are hereby confined to your quarters until we return to earth. Cadet Uhura, please accompany her."

And with a simple arch of his eyebrow, Spock turned on his heel and strode out of the medical bay and the Security Officers dragging Kirk out followed close behind him. Christine's chest heaved now, tears stinging her eyes as the full horror of what had almost happened hit her with the force a shuttle at Warp Factor six. He had really been prepared to enter her consciousness to take the knowledge that he wanted against her will, a thought which chilled her to the bone and prevented her from going after Kirk.

"Christine, put it down honey. It's okay now."

Uhura was suddenly in her vision. Christine felt her friends' soft hands on her lower arm and wrist. Turning her head, Christine saw that her right arm was raised and that she was clutching a laser scalpel like it was a deadly weapon. She couldn't even remember picking it up. Slowly she lowered her arm, letting Nyota take the medical instrument from her and drop it onto the table.

"He just...he wanted to..." The words tumbled between her lips, but Christine could not find sense in the moment. Had things really degenerated to this point on board? What was happening to them? What kind of Starfleet officers could act this way toward one another?

"I know honey." Uhura soothed, wrapping an arm around her friend's shoulder. "I know. Let's get you out of here and back to your quarters, eh?"

Christine nodded mutely. She didn't hear what Uhura said, or rather couldn't make out the meaning behind the simple words. Her brain was still trapped by the notion that Spock had tried to violate her with his mental abilities. Of all the people she would have ever expected to be capable, he was the last. What had happened to him that he would become such an animal? Had she misjudged him all this time?

_His mother died right in front of him and he couldn't save her. His planet was destroyed. There are barely a handful of Vulcan's left in the Universe. Does he need a better reason?_

Just as Christine registered Spock's possible reasons for acting strangely, courtesy of the bitter voice that reserved itself for her weakest moments, she snapped back into the present. Christine had somehow dozed the entire journey from the Medical Bay and the turbolift ride to the deck where her quarters where. She recognised the bend that came just before her door. Like coming up from underwater, she finally tuned back in to what Nyota was saying.

"...try not to judge him too harshly Christine. He's just under so much stress."

Stopping outside of her door, Christine pulled herself out of Uhura's reach, shocking painting her features into an incredulous mask. "I cannot believe you are defending what just happened. Are you serious? You're going to stand there and make excuses for what Spock tried to do to me?" Her voice raised an octave with every word to the point where only canines may have been able to make out the last sentence. And of course, Uhura.

She shook her head. "He didn't meant it Christine, he didn't. He's struggling to cope, that's all."

"We are all struggling to cope Nyota," Christine raged, "but we don't go around trying to assault people under our command! How can you even excuse the way he's acting? You should be throwing him in a holding cell, not feeling sorry for him!" Uhura looked crestfallen. "Of course, I forgot. You love him, don't you? Spock can do no wrong in your eyes."

"That's not fair," Uhura shakily replied, pleading with her friend, "I do care, and I know what he did was wrong but it is not as black and white as you're making it out. He's just lost his mother and his home planet. Surely he can be forgiven a few lapses in judgement considering the extenuating circumstances." Christine looked unconvinced. "No-one blamed you when you lost it during the Romulan attack did they? Everyone understood that..."

By Christine's expression, Nyota realised she'd made the wrong comparison. Christine wasn't sure if she would have looked so surprised had Uhura slapped her across the face. She may as well have, for the stinging sensation she felt. Her friend, one of the people she was closest to in the whole world had brought up one of her darkest moments as a way to justify what Spock had tried to do.

"Oh, Christine I'm sorry! I didn't mean that..."

"If Captain Spock is in some way incapable of performing his duties because of the tragedy of Vulcan," Christine managed in an even voice, even though her heart felt like it was breaking, "then he should be the one confined to his quarters instead of running around attacking members of this crew! And I'll bet he was the one he rendered James unconscious in the first place, wasn't he? Well am I right?" She demanded. "Oh don't bother Uhura, it's written all over your face."

Christine leaned back against her door and it opened in response. She took a backward step inside. "And you're right; people didn't blame me when I broke down over losing so many friends and colleagues. But I had the common sense to leave my post until I could pull myself together. I suggest you go and advise your _boyfriend_ to do the same thing, before someone really gets hurt."

"Christine, wait!"

"Good evening, Cadet Uhura." Hitting the control panel on the wall, the doors to Christine's quarters closed directly over the hurt expression on Uhura's face.

Turning around, she rested her back against the door until she heard the soft footsteps of Nyota's feet against the carpet as she walked away. Certain she was alone; Christine stopped trying to hold back the tears that filled her eyes, sinking to the floor as they fell in rivers down her cheeks.

Everything was ruined. James had been sentenced off the ship and God only knew what would happen to him alone on Delta Vega. Her friend Uhura had defended the commander who'd tried to assault her for doing what she thought was the right thing by standing up against poor judgement. And now, it looked like her career in Starfleet was over before it had ever begun. The Court Martial she would face was likely to be so far reaching even her grandchildren would be banned from Starfleet. Once again, Christine had lost her future because she'd chosen a man over herself. What happened with Roger almost seemed petty in comparison to today.

Sobbing in racked, harsh gasps, Christine clutched her knees into her chest and buried her face against them. She held herself like that, desperate for the image of Spock's angry face reaching out for her to fade from her memory.


	11. Perspective

_**A/N**__**: **__The exam is done, the assignments are handed in, and here is the next chapter for your reading pleasure. It is actually one of the first chapters I planned when I decided to write this story so I hope you enjoy it. As ever, your reviews are amazing and I would love for you to keep them coming. Reviews are love, and whilst I am thrilled to be on so many alert/favourite lists, I'd love some feedback from you guys too. So, if you read this chapter, please review it._

_I disclaim. Read and review!_

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With her chin cupped between her hands, Christine stared out into the endlessness of space through the windows of her cabin. Since her spectacularly sudden removal from active duty, she'd done little else other than to sit on the edge of her bed and watch space pass her by, as the Enterprise warped to whatever location her unbalanced commanding officer had decided upon. Her knees ached at the pressure of her elbows resting on them, and she was probably going to get a strain in her neck for staying in the extended position for so long. But she couldn't convince herself to move. For the first time in her life, Christine felt utterly drained. She literally had nothing left inside to keep her going, and had little choice other than to allow life to pass her by once again.

She'd always found it interesting the affect solitude could have on a person. It was only when a person was alone did they truly take stock of their lives and glance down the roads not taken. Christine had never been one to believe in regrets, but even she couldn't deny she'd let so many chances of a real future slip through her fingers that she was beginning to see an unfortunate pattern.

At thirteen years old, she'd be marked as being a future member of the Federation Science Academy, so developed were her scientific skills. Scholars and scientists had agreed that she had the potential to be a leading name in the science field, but she ignored all that and chose a different path when the time came to it. Her parents had called it wasted potential; she'd seen it as an ultimate act of love. At fifteen years of age, Christine had been one of four people over the past fifty years to gain an early acceptance into the Federation School of Medical Research. Again, the world was within her grasp and had she taken that path, she could have been on the front line of medical research, making headway and finding cures that no-one else could. Instead, her devotion to another had seen her studying to become nothing more than a laboratory assistant. Whilst a respectable career within itself, it was far below Christine's potential and the scientific community all but shut its' doors to her.

Here she was once more at the age of nineteen, and she'd had the chance to become acting Head Nurse under the tutelage of the quite brilliant Doctor Leonard McCoy on the soon to be christened flagship of Starfleet; the _USS Enterprise_. Everyone had faith in her, which was surprising considering she didn't have it in herself. And now after picking someone else over her own future, she was left very much alone, surveying the tatters of broken dreams and glimpses of what could have been. Perhaps this knock back was one too many, as Christine didn't know how she was going to pick herself back up again after this latest failure.

It was easy for anyone to make a mistake once, and even twice would have been forgiven by most. But a third time? Could she never learn the lesson life had gone out of its' way to teach her? How could Christine justify the blatant disregard for her own future this time? It seemed that she was destined to lose every chance that was given to her, and something told the nurse that this had really been her very last one. There was nothing left for her now. She would never become a scientific researcher, or a leading physician within Starfleet Medical. There was no chance of ever serving on board a Starship with a Court Martial hanging over her head either. Her future was well and truly destroyed, and Christine had no-one to blame but herself.

Even the men that she'd convinced herself had been the reasons for her to spit in the face of her chances were no longer with her. She wasn't engaged to Roger anymore, and she didn't even want to consider what had happened to James all alone on Delta Vega. What did her dedication to her feelings and principles get her? A confinement in her quarters and a ruined life to be lived out alone.

In a strange, almost ironic way, Christine had to acknowledge that coming to the Enterprise had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. Regardless of how her Starfleet career had turned out, her limited time on the ship had given her a perspective on life that had eluded her for almost six years. It seemed cruel that finally, as she'd started to carve out her future and have confidence in her abilities once more, she'd lost it all because she'd dared to stand up for what she thought was right. Wasn't that what being in Starfleet was about? Dedication to duty above all else, even if it meant going against her commanding officer because he was wrong. It was clear to her now that her dedication only seemed to cause her trouble, and Christine wondered whether she'd made a mistake in opposing Spock in the first place.

Just as the seeds of self-doubt began to gnaw at her resolve, commotion on the other side of the doors to her quarters stole her attention. Glancing up from her silent vigil, the twinge of pain in the back of neck forced her to move slowly. She'd definitely been sat there feeling sorry for herself for far too long. There were raised voices; one in particular barking orders in a gruff tone that could belong to no other man than Leonard McCoy. Christine stood up from the bed just as the chime to signal there was someone outside echoed in the room. The argument had died down outside and clearly the doctor had gotten his way with whoever else was out there.

Briefly Christine considered ignoring the chime; after all she wasn't entirely sure Leonard was the person she wanted to speak to after the debacle in the Medical Bay. Hadn't Spock said that McCoy had agreed with his decision to remove James from the ship? Christine didn't want to believe that was true, and of course she'd have no way of knowing unless she allowed him entrance. Chewing on her bottom lip in concentration, Christine made up her mind as the chime sounded again.

"Come in," she called softly, ocean blue eyes focused on the entrance.

The doors parted with a swish, and the towering figure of Leonard McCoy entered her quarters. His usual scowl seemed more pronounced than usual, and the way he clutched the tray in his hands to the point where his knuckles turned white clued Christine into the fact that he wasn't in the best of moods. Just as the doors closed behind him, she spotted the uniformed Security Officers standing on either side of the entrance. Was she really such a threat to Spock that she required a security detail now? Christine allowed herself a grim smile at that. Who would have guessed that little nerdy Christine Chapel would grow up to be such a trouble maker?

"He wasn't kidding when he said confined to quarters," Christine admitted as she indicated an empty seat for McCoy, "I've got my own guards and everything. I must have really gotten on his bad side earlier."

"Pig headed, autocratic Vulcan!" McCoy raged, sliding the tray onto the desk at the opposite end of the bed. A quick glance at it, and Christine saw the three course meal that rested in plates and bowls. She was touched that Leonard thought to bring her food from the galley, even if she wasn't particularly hungry. "I oughtta throw him in the brig on medical grounds for sheer stupidity!"

Christine smirked, sliding back onto the edge of the bed as McCoy began to pace the floor in front of her. She found his cantankerous nature amusing, and now that he was legitimately wound up there seemed to be no stopping him.

"Doesn't the fool realise we are in the middle of a crisis?" McCoy ranted, arm pointing accusingly toward the door. "I tell him I've got no medical staff to work with, and he takes the only person who actually knows which end of a hypospray to stick in a patient!" The Doctor stopped, eyes narrowing. "I bet this is some form of payback. I wouldn't put it past that pointy-eared Vulcan Tsar to remove you from duty just to get on my already shot nerves. For a species that prides themselves on unshakable logic, Vulcans can be so god damn petty!"

She could only nod, highly amused by McCoy's frantic movements. Reaching from the tray, he thrust it at her, almost spilling the soup in the bowl. "Tomato soup and beef sandwiches. Not gourmet cuisine exactly, but the best we can do in the circumstances." Motioning toward the second bowl with something that looked like it had been scrapped off the warp core, McCoy shook his head. "I wouldn't try the plum crisp though. Ensign Waller did, and hasn't returned from his bathroom for the entire duty shift. Just add mass food poisoning to my ever growing list of things to do. Dammit, I need a drink."

Finally expending his energy, McCoy dropped himself onto the seat as Christine lifted a sandwich to inspect it. Her face grimaced at the sight of the filling, because the beef was a little pinker than she liked her meat. "Feel better?" She enquired, now that the doctor had settled.

"Much," he conceded, watching her with obvious impatience. "Are you going to diagnose the damn thing or eat it?"

Christine placed it back on the plate and handed it back to a stony faced McCoy. "I'm not that hungry. At least not for a sandwich that may still _moo_ at me."

McCoy chuckled, before taking bite out of it. "It is like chewing on rubber, but it would do these rookies good to lose their comforts for a while. There are much worse things to eat on a Starship, I'm sure. This'll build character."

"Or put you in the Medical Bay." Christine shrugged, crossing her legs beneath her.

With the sandwich finished, McCoy leaned forward and rested his hands on his knees. His gaze was serious as his eyes burned into Christine's, and she knew she probably wasn't going to like what happened next. Feeding her obviously wasn't his only motivation for coming here. His voice was so low that she almost didn't hear what he said. "Chapel, what were you thinking standing up to Spock like that?"

How could he possibly ask her that? "Somebody had to," she defended in a tone that sounded a little more petulant than she would have liked. "Spock cannot throw his weight around and expect everyone to just fall in line, acting Captain or not. Expelling James Kirk from the Enterprise was a bad decision, and against a dozen rules too."

"I'm aware of that," McCoy grunted, leaning back into the seat to fold his arms across his chest.

"That surprises me," Christine admitted, mirroring McCoy's position by folding her own arms tightly across her chest, "considering I was the only person to voice a protest against his actions. You're James' friend, aren't you? Ethical treatment of prisoners argument notwithstanding, how could you allow Spock to boot him off the ship? Don't you care about him at all?"

Christine realised her tone must have sounded accusatory by the way McCoy flinched at her words. "What would you rather I did? Go up against Spock and end up like you or worse exiled with Jim?" McCoy visibly recoiled at the thought of travelling in an escape pod. "I'm the Chief Medical Officer on board, which is a senior position and part of the command crew. I have to support the Captain in his decisions, even if he is being an ego-maniacal SOB and I think he's gone out of his Vulcan mind. And Jim did try and stage a mutiny, don't forget. He isn't exactly innocent in all this. I swear that kid doesn't know how to help himself sometimes. Spock had to do something when his authority was being challenged."

"Spock is unhinged!" Christine exploded, scandalized at McCoy's reasoning for standing by Spock as he sentenced James off the Enterprise.

"Which is exactly why it is better to follow orders to keep him in check! I can't keep an eye on him if I'm locked in my room, can I?" McCoy reasoned, desperately wanting Christine to understand his justification. "If he does step out of line, then I will relieve him from duty. Jim will be fine on Delta Vega. There's an outpost on the planet that will have picked him up by now, and he's a survivor anyway. The kid's been in worse scrapes than that."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Doctor." Getting up from her seated position, Christine moved to the window to look out at space. Her back was to McCoy because she desperately needed some space between them as she could feel herself getting more and more annoyed as he tried to explain his way out of what he'd allowed to happen. Every fibre in her being told her that Spock had been wrong, but no-one seemed to agree with her enough to do anything about it.

She wondered if McCoy knew about what Spock had attempted to do to her; to use his Vulcan mental abilities to rip knowledge out of her head against her will. If he did know, would he be so willing to defend the Captain and do his job as a part of the precious command crew? Probably not, but then Christine could see a thread of logic in what McCoy said. The command crew had to fall in line with the Captain, even if he was being heavy handed. And if Christine did tell McCoy what Spock had tried to do, it could lead to absolute anarchy breaking loose on board. What choice did she have other than to keep her silence on the subject?

Maybe she had deserved such treatment from Spock. Had she been out of line, like everyone seemed to think she was? If that was true, then could she have been totally wrong about Kirk's treatment? Should she be so personally and professionally offended by what happened? If Kirk's closest friend from the Academy could support the decision made by Spock, was she just acting like an immature, irrational nineteen year old girl? Had she given up on a future on this ship for no good reason?

"Something tells me there's more to this than you're lettin' on Chapel." McCoy hadn't moved from the chair, and spoke to her regardless of whether or not she was looking at him. His powers of perception apparently did him more credit that he let on. "So how about you tell your Doctor what it is that's gotten you wound up tighter than catgut? Hmmm?"

Like she was about to open to a grizzled, no nonsense physician like him."You're a Doctor, not a psychiatrist."

"That's true. But I know something about this situation has struck a nerve. Hell, it's done more than strike the nerve; I think it's taken a laser scalpel to it. What is it Christine?" She hadn't realised that McCoy had gotten up from his seat until he placed a hand on her shoulder. "What aren't you telling me? You wouldn't be so out of sorts if this was just a matter of principles, I don't think."

Slowly, Christine turned around to face him, tilting her head back so she could look into his dark eyes. She found no judgement there, just genuine concern for her. Maybe she could use some of that grizzled, no nonsense attitude to give her a harsh dose of reality. "Do you think I'm foolish Leonard? Am I just a stupid, idealistic nineteen year old Cadet who let her passions get the better of her and now I'm paying the price for it? Because I'm starting to feel like I've made the worst mistake of my life, which trust me if true, means it's a real stinker."

McCoy licked his lips, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to work out the subtext in what she was saying. Although he was certain he had all the pieces of the puzzle, without the final picture to go by, he didn't know what the individual parts formed at the end.

"No Christine, I do not think that at all." He squeezed her shoulder gently, friendly concern painting his features. "I think you are a brilliant, dedicated and dynamic young woman who has everything going for her and tried to do the right thing by a fellow Cadet. What I can't understand is why you've picked this life for yourself in the first place."

She arched an eyebrow, unsure at his meaning. "What do you mean? Why did I enlist in Starfleet?"

"Partly, but I mean overall. What are you doing on this ship Christine Chapel? You are capable of so much more than just being a Nurse." He explained. "Look, I'll be honest with you. Doctor Puri had me check out your background because he was interested in putting you in for the position of Head Nurse. And I know your qualifications Christine, how brilliant you are. You got accepted into the Federation Science Academy for crying out loud. I know people who would sell a body part to get in, yet you turned their offer down."

Christine shook her head, sending her strawberry blonde hair dancing around her delicate features. "I was just lucky. I wrote a good paper on the effect of artificially inducing rainfall to the topography of arid planets."

"You were thirteen," McCoy deadpanned. "And they were ready to take you when you turned fourteen on the Accelerated Learning programme. Anyone with half a brain cell would have jumped at the chance. But your record says you turned them down. Why didn't you go?"

"It doesn't matter." Christine replied, hearing the tremble in her voice. She pulled away from his curious glance, moving back across the room. Suddenly, her quarters seemed smaller than they ever had and she felt trapped by McCoy and his inquisitive questioning. She didn't want to relive this again, especially not when it meant exposing her mistakes to someone like Leonard McCoy.

"When you were fifteen, you could have joined the Federation Medical Research team which, by the way, nobody gets offered at that age. But you turned them down as well. Why Christine? Why did you turn your back on these amazing opportunities? What could possibly have been more important that your own future?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." She admitted, folding her arms around herself as though she were giving herself a hug. How could she explain to someone like McCoy that she'd been more interested in getting married to the man of her dreams and had given up the chance at a career to be with him? He'd either laugh at her or slap her face, and she probably deserved both in equal measures.

His hands were firmer on her shoulders now as he turned her around to face him. "Dammit girl, I want to know why. Tell me, Christine. What was it that made you waste your potential to train as laboratory technician's assistant?" McCoy's face screwed up in disgust as he said it, knowing full well how much of a travesty it was. "You are capable of a million times more, and I have to understand why. I won't leave you in peace until you do."

Looking into his eyes, Christine realised that he wasn't about to let this go. He obviously knew the important features of her life, and probably wanted to know how they all fitted together. If she didn't give him a good enough reason he was going to keep probing and pressuring her until she cracked anyway. Would it be so bad in admitting the truth to him? She'd never told anyone this before, only Uhura knew because she'd been friends with her for so long. Exposing herself and her past to him terrified her like nothing she'd ever known. What if he thought less of her? Could she cope with disappointing one of the few people who actually believed in her still?

There was only one way to find out.

Taking a deep breath, Christine found herself looking anywhere but into McCoy's eyes. "I was thirteen years old when I first met Roget Korby."

"Korby...Korby...I know him!" McCoy's face sparked with recognition at the name. "Medical archaeologist, favourite of the Federation Science Council. Arrogant son of a gun, as I recall."

"That's Roger. If you don't believe in his greatness, it doesn't matter because he believes it enough for everybody." Despite everything that Korby had put her through, Christine found herself laughing at it. "He was fifteen, and the most amazing boy I had ever met. He shared my passion for science, and could challenge me intellectually like no-one else my own age. And he was so handsome, even then. I think I fell in love with him over a quadratic equation in the Science Lab at school."

Shaking her head, Christine leaned herself against the wall as McCoy perched himself on the corner of her desk. "He said that he loved me too, that I was the girl of his dreams and he would do anything to be with me. I can't tell you how that sounded to my innocent thirteen year old ears." She sighed as she recalled how it felt to be so swept off her feet.

"We started dating, in secret of course. There was never anything inappropriate or illegal between us, just good old fashioned puppy love. Besides, my parents would never have agreed to it and with good reason. When I turned fourteen, I had the choice of going to the Science Academy or being with Roger. To my teenage mind, Roger was my future and no amount of tantrums or threats from my parents or tutors could change that. I couldn't see a life without him, as stupid as it sounds. He had all these plans for our future, he had everything mapped out and I couldn't say no to him, so I said no to the Academy."

McCoy scowled, and Christine could tell how much he was biting his tongue. She could only imagine what he wanted to say, at her stupidity amongst other things, but to his credit was trying so hard to keep it all inside.

"My parents were so angry, especially when they found out it was because of Roger. Eventually we ran away together, far away from home and got a little apartment on the outskirts of New Orleans. My parents were beside themselves and got the authorities involved to try and get me back. And what did I do? I legally emancipated myself from them so I could be with Roger."

McCoy's face had become grave, but he said nothing as Christine continued explaining her choices. "When I turned fifteen, I was offered a place at the Medical School. My tutors had seen my potential and had applied on my behalf. I so wanted to be a Physician Leonard, to help people and research cures to our deadliest diseases. But Roger had his dreams, and he wanted me to be right there with him. He...he told me that we couldn't stay together if I went away to the Medical School. I couldn't lose him, so instead of taking the school up on the offer I chose to become an assistant to him, to support his dreams and sacrifice my own future. I figured I could be just as happy being with him as I could study to be a Doctor."

Christine laughed bitterly. "The school was furious with me, everyone saying I wasting my future on Roger. At the time I found it all terribly romantic, like we were a modern Romeo and Juliet. And I thought it was he and I against the world. Especially after he proposed to me, I felt like I'd been vindicated."

Tucking her hair behind her ears, she sighed deeply, exhaling something that had been trapped inside her heart for six years. "Anyway, Roger actually decided he loved his work more than me, and left me to go on a deep space research mission with his other assistant. I was of no more _'use'_ to him, apparently. That was four years ago."

Breathing out slowly, she tried to steady her nerves and her voice as the most difficult part was yet to come. "I decided to try and pick up where I left off, but I'd lost my confidence Leonard. I was too afraid to study to become a Doctor." At the face McCoy made, Christine smiled sadly. "You have to understand, I'd been _Roger and Christine_ since I was thirteen years old. Suddenly I was _just_ Christine again. I didn't know how to be one person on my own, and I was frightened that I couldn't make it as a physician. So I chose the Nursing course instead, and enrolled in Starfleet. I wanted to get as far away from Earth as possible...so I could forget all my bad decisions and leave the memories light-years behind."

Finally, Christine could look McCoy in the eyes, even if it was only to beat herself down more. "So you see I am a stupid, foolish girl after all."

"And by getting yourself suspended for backing up Jim, you feel like you've let history repeat itself again. In supporting a different man, you've given up your shot for the nursing future." McCoy surmised in an insightful tone. Christine felt awfully transparent at that moment, but nodded her head.

"You're good. Ever consider a career as a shrink?" McCoy smiled thinly. "Since I've been on board this ship, I've realised that every decision I've made has only hurt me. Every turn I've taken in life has been the wrong one. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing for my future, when really I was just pushing it further and further away." Christine felt tears begin to sting her eyes, but she absolutely refused to cry over her mistakes again. "I may be academically gifted, but at heart I'm just a silly little girl with no common sense."

"Now you listen here missy and you listen well." McCoy began in his gruff manner, adopting his no-nonsense persona reserved for his patients. "You are a brilliant scientist and will make an excellent physician one day." Holding up his hand to silence her disagreement, he continued. "I don't care what that green blooded fascist says, you will not be court martialled for doing what was right. I will support you all the way, and even relieve that lunatic of his command if I have to. And what's more, you will complete your medical degree and become a serving physician in Starfleet, whether you like it or not."

Christine felt a smile warm the chill in her heart as she beamed at him. "And as for Korby, he should be strung up by his toes and thrown to the Klingons! Of all the manipulative, self-serving, twisted deviants I have ever heard of..."

He trailed off as he clenched his fists at his sides, blinded by anger and lost for words. Pulling herself up from the wall, Christine rested her hands over his, trying to sooth them out of their balled up clench. "I know Roger sounds terrible, but I promise he really isn't all bad." McCoy cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. "I'm not defending what he's done, because I can't. But Roger is a brilliant scientist, and one of the most passionate men I have ever known. And when you are the object of his passion nothing else is more important to him in the entire Universe. He's devoted to you. The only problem is, eventually that passion fades and he finds something else to be just as obsessed with. But in his way, I think he actually loved me once."

And in an instant, Christine suddenly appreciated Uhura's perspective on Spock. She hadn't supported what he'd tried to do to her in the Medical Bay by any means, but she could see the man that was in turmoil beneath the Vulcan mask he portrayed to the world and didn't want him to be punished because he was in pain. Grief made people do the strangest things, something Christine knew all too well, and Uhura had seen that in Spock. Christine knew that had the roles been reversed, Uhura would have defended her just as quickly. Making a mental note to apologise to her friend, Christine realised McCoy was speaking again.

"I'd like to find him and road-test a few inoculations I've been developing. A little dose of what I gave to Jim back on Earth would be a nice start. Maybe a little Andorian dysentery too..." His smile was grim, but Christine knew McCoy wasn't as angry anymore.

"That's a lovely thought, but it really doesn't matter now. Thank you anyway." She grinned conspiratorially. "The truth is, Roger is out living his dreams somewhere and I'm finally coming to terms with my own. And I'm not afraid anymore." And at that, Christine burst into a fit of relieved giggles. The weight of her past felt like it was beginning to lift from her shoulders. There were still issues she'd need to resolve for sure, but for the first time since he'd walked out on her, Christine could finally see light at the end of the dark tunnel she'd been travelling in for so long. She was actually starting to get over Roger, and that realisation only made her laugh harder. McCoy looked at her with an expression that suggested she'd grown a second head.

Leaning onto her toes, she pressed a kiss against his cheek, clasping his arms beneath her hands. "Thank you Leonard, for listening to me. I didn't realise how badly I needed to say all that out loud. I'm just sorry that I won't get the chance to work with you on the Enterprise, because I would have loved to assist you."

"The hell you won't." Squeezing her hands in his, McCoy started toward the door. "You don't get to turn my job offer down that easily, oh no. I'm going straight to see our beloved Acting Captain and tell him he'd better reinstate you or I'll give him a dose of something nasty. It's about time that logical dictator starting taking me seriously."

"Don't get yourself in trouble on my account," Christine called to McCoy as the doors parted for him, "I really haven't got the capacity for that guilt as well!"

"Leave it to me Chapel!" McCoy called as he marched out of her quarters and between the two security guards who looked bewildered at his determined stride. He disappeared around a corner yet his voice still reached her. "You just leave it to me!"

The doors closed on his exit, and Christine shook her head with a soft giggle. She couldn't stop smiling, and her medical training told her she was probably hysterical after the emotional deconstruction she'd been through recently. Well, if this was hysteria she was feeling, Christine hoped it never went away. She felt complete again, like she'd fixed a part of herself she hadn't even realised was broken.

So what if they kicked her out of Starfleet? They couldn't stop her from going back to school and getting her medical degree could they? She could open her own local Doctor's practice back on Earth, maybe even somewhere rural, and just be an old fashioned country doctor like the best physicians were.

As she skipped across her room to reach for a data pad to start making plans in earnest, Christine spotted something lying on the carpet. It was just on the other side of her bed, and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before. Reaching down to pick the object up, she recognised the shiny black data stick that contained Roger's message that Uhura had given to her.

Without hesitation, she moved over to the computer panel in the wall and inserted the stick into it. The wall panel whirred to life and brought up a menu with a list of questions for her. Christine typed in a few commands, and a required question formed on the screen in front of her.

_Are you sure you want to purge this data stick without reading the information contained on it? Once deleted, this file cannot be recovered._

With a grin, Christine hit _'Yes'_ and watched the blue bar on the panel as it returned to zero indicating all stored information had been removed. The stick was empty, the message gone. And she honestly couldn't happier. Christine had no interest in anything Roger had to say to her anymore; he was her past and she was more concerned with her future, and that future would be navigated by no-one but her.

It was good to be _just_ Christine Chapel again.


	12. Last Chances

_**A/N**__: Update for your reading pleasure. I am truly sorry for the length of time between this update and the last. Life kinda got in the way, but I'm hoping this chapter makes up for it. Based on my original outline, I have two chapters left to write and an epilogue before this story is all finished. I've been toying with the idea of a sequel for quite some time, assuming you guys would be interesting in reading one. Either way, as a non-subtle beg, if you read this chapter please review it. There are so many of you that read this that stay silent, and I'd love to have your feedback. So please, read and review._

_I disclaim!_

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Christine slept soundly. The excitement of planning a new life for herself free of her past and the guilt that it carried had sent her into overdrive, to the point where she'd completely filled a data pad's memory capacity with plans and ideas for her future. She wasn't sure at what point those plans had slipped from her fingers and she'd fallen into a slumber, but she could at least tell she was dreaming. Nothing could happen as she was dreaming it, not even on board a ship as grand as the Enterprise.

_She recognised the corridor; it was the one that lead to the Medical Bay. Christine had walked it dozens of times so now she knew it by sight, despite it being standard issue and similar in appearance to almost every other corridor on the ship. Only the Medical Bay didn't come after she turned the corner as she had expected it to. Instead there was only more corridor. It was then the nurse realised how afraid she was. A cold sea of panic had settled comfortably into the hollow of her chest and had such a complete hold over her, Christine wondered how it had escaped her notice for so long. She couldn't pinpoint the source of the emotion; she just knew she was deeply frightened. _

_As Christine recognised her fear, she instinctively knew as one does when they know they are dreaming that the path she was taking wasn't an effort to get to the Medical Bay at all. Rather she knew now was running away from something...or someone._

_The identity of this faceless fear was a mystery to her. She couldn't say who it was that had frightened her, or for what reason she would be trying to escape them. Christine only knew that if she dared stop or even turn around to face the way she'd come, that fear would be standing right behind her. So she carried on, twisting and turning corner after corner in an effort to get away._

_There were people in the corridors as she walked them, but everyone she passed was dressed in the blue uniform of a Science Officer. There weren't the myriad hues of white and red and gold that she expected to see on a fully crewed Starship. Although she couldn't see anyone's face; as they all walked with purpose and lowered their heads, somehow Christine knew they were all Vulcan. The pointed ears and harsh haircuts made it obvious, even though rational thought told her there could not be that many Vulcan's on board. As her pace quickened, Christine realised she hadn't passed anyone else for a while. The corridors were eerily silent, the lightning just a shade too dim for standard issue. Feeling like she was being watched, Christine felt a fresh wave of terror rise in her chest. She had to get away, she just knew it. Whatever it was she was fleeing from had finally caught up to her. She felt it so deeply she almost whimpered out loud._

_Turning around was not an option. She could even feel the icy chill of someone's breath against her neck. They had caught her!_

_As she turned another corner in the dream, she stopped suddenly. At the end of the corridor was what she was running away from. The knowledge came to her like a terrifying epiphany. It was Spock. He was stood waiting for her, his hands resting loosely at his sides, bathed in half shadows that the lighting didn't have the power to chase away. Every turn she had taken, every effort she had made to run away had led her straight to the Vulcan Acting Captain. Feeling like a pawn in his master game, Christine shivered. The dark eyes that glared at her from beneath thick brows gave nothing away, save for his obvious dislike of her. Fear took hold of Christine, forcing her to stand still in terror as his cold, piercing gaze ran over her body. She trembled with fear, just as his lip curled back in disgust._

_Just as suddenly as she'd seen him, Spock lunged for her. He cleared the distance of the corridor easily, arms outstretched and his feet seeming to float over the ground. And as it was with most dreams, Christine was frozen to the spot. She couldn't move, she couldn't even speak. She just had to wait for Spock to reach her, even though every sense told her to run. _

_Spock caught her about the arms, his fingers curling into vice grips as his eyes blazed furiously into hers. She was powerless to fight him, and he just held her there, hands clamped around her shoulders and eyes burning into soul. The muscles in his face twitched, and Christine just knew he was going to yell at her. He was going to tell her how worthless she was, how she could never run away really. He would always catch up to her and expose her for what she truly was; a weak and pathetic little girl who had brought nothing but misery into the lives of everyone she met. He would tell her that she never belonged in Starfleet, that she wasn't good enough to be anything other than a Scientist's laboratory assistant and that she shamed herself by being on board._

_Christine knew all of this, yet Spock had not spoken. Only when he opened his mouth to voice these hurtful opinions, no words came out. In fact not only did he not speak, but he seemed to...chime at her? His mouth gaped in wide arc of fury, but the words didn't match it. He just chimed again at her, persistent and impatient._

Blinking her eyes open, Christine had to take a moment to readjust to where she was. She was in her quarters, spread across the bed. The data pad was lying next to her, and the stars continued to rush past her cabin window. Her skirt uniform had ridden up around her hips, and she'd obviously been tossing and turning if the tangle of sheets and limbs were anything to judge it by. She was on board the Enterprise, still locked in her own personal prison, courtesy of her dream pursuer.

Taking deep gulps of oxygen into her lungs, Christine tried to slow down the race of her heart that pounded within her chest. She'd known that it was only a dream as she'd experienced it, yet that didn't make the terror any less real. She felt the dregs of fear as though Spock had been chasing her through the ship.

The chime sounded again, and Christine realised now that there was someone outside her quarters. That was where the sound had come from in her dream and replaced Spock's voice. As rational thought made sense of the pieces of the dream, the nurse felt better.

Slipping off the bed, she ran her hands back through her strawberry blonde locks. They'd come lose during her fight with the bed sheets and now hung in soft waves around her face and down over her shoulders. Tugging her skirt down over her thighs, Christine felt a little exposed without her boots on, but there was no time to do anything about it. If the person outside was whom she feared it to be, Christine knew she couldn't keep the acting Captain waiting any longer.

"Come in," she called softly, her voice thick and cracking with the dryness of sleep that still hung like a curtain over her senses.

The doors parted with a swish, and it was a struggle to raise her ocean green eyes to the entrance. Christine didn't want to see Spock's disapproving face glaring back at her behind a mask of Vulcan indifference. However pride won through, and she refused to be intimidated by the gaze of her superior. Defiantly, she raised her gaze to eye level and gasped in surprise.

For half a second, her heart refused to beat. It held still for just a moment before pounding furiously again as the word crashed into reality around. Unable to stop herself even if she'd so wanted to, Christine flung herself forward, bare feet hardly touching the grey carpet as she launched herself into the waiting arms of James Tiberius Kirk. He caught her easily, crushing her petit form against his broad chest and wrapping her in his strong embrace.

Christine felt like a ragdoll, her feet suspended in the ether as Kirk held her off the ground. His hands pawed at her, tracing the lines of her back and losing themselves in the strawberry blonde waterfall of her hair. His cheek pressed against her, the warmth of his body searing through both their clothing to reach her skin. Her arms wound around his neck, fingers soothing the short hair at the back of his head and lightly grazing the nape of his neck. For the moment Christine forgot the reality of the past few days and allowed herself to drift in the security of James' presence.

Finally, she loosened her grip from his neck to look into his eyes. Those bewitching ice blue orbs smiled back at her, and Christine knew that he was as pleased to see her as she was him. That was her utter undoing. Maybe it was the newfound confidence that guided her, or even that she hadn't properly woken up yet and wasn't entirely aware of who she was with and what she doing. Still, Christine hoped and prayed that this moment wasn't part of her dream as she boldly lowered her face to meet him, painting her lips against his in a tentative but firm kiss.

Kirk hesitated for just a moment as she took him by surprise, but that moment was lost as lips suddenly moved against hers, his grip tightening on her back and in her hair. His lips were just as she'd imagined them to be; softer than the finest silk and firm enough in their movement to awaken her own passions. James kissed her with every ounce of desire, frustration and longing he'd harboured since before meeting her, his mouth devouring her own without mercy. Christine welcomed the feeling, holding her hands against the back of his head to draw him even closer, unconsciously slipping her legs around his waist as he stepped fully into her quarters. The door closed them off from any potentially prying eyes, not that either one noticed. Christine was so lost in the heat of Kirk's kiss nothing else registered to her.

He walked them back into the room, just as she felt his tongue softly tease against her lips. She willingly parted them, groaning softly as he instantly plundered her mouth and his taste invaded her senses. Her lungs begged her for a fresh supply of air, but she wouldn't agree to it. Right now Christine felt as though she might die if she ever stopped kissing him, giving into her lust with uncharacteristic abandon. James kissed her with such forceful passion that she knew she would have melted into the floor had he not been holding her against his hard body.

Just as the world started to dim around her, James finally relented in his claim of her lips. He gently eased back, landing a rainfall of light kisses against her slightly parted lips. Christine's eyes fluttered open, hazy and unsure. At some point James had turned them around so that he could sit on the bed, and she had been left straddling his thighs. He panted softly against, his heart a violent thrum against her chest as he fought to control his racing desire. A light pink coloured his cheeks, the pupils of his crystal blue eyes dilated and awakened as they drank in the sight of her.

Christine touched the tips of her fingers to her lips, trying to conjure some feeling back into them as they felt swollen from his kiss. Her chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm as her body tried to right itself after the explosion of wanton desire that had taken over her.

The feeling of James kneading her hips beneath his hands focused her on the present. He smiled at her, not a look of victory at having finally kissed her, but one of warmed contentment. Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers, exhaling slowly.

"I should get myself marooned more often, if that's the welcome back I get."

He chuckled softly, and Christine threw her arms around his neck all over again. He responded in kind, holding her tightly as much to comfort her as to assure himself that he was back where he belonged. "I was so worried," Christine admitted. "We should never have left you on that planet alone. God knows what could have happened to you. Did anything happen to you? Are you okay?"

James stroked her hair in a soothing rhythm, smiling because of her touching concern for him. "I'm alright Christine. I found some help down on the planet and got back here as quickly as I could."

He may have been glossing over certain key occurrences, but guessed that she did not need to hear about the chases that nearly ended in his death, or the chance meeting with someone from their future. He resolved to tell her the whole story at some point, but would at least wait until things had calmed down on board the Enterprise and whole words weren't in peril from mad Romulans.

If Christine had been thinking properly, she would have questioned how Kirk could have gotten himself back on board the Enterprise when they were travelling at Warp Speed. As it was, she was far too happy to see him safe and present to even wonder about it. "I'm just glad you're alright."

She pulled back to look into his handsome face, his hand cupping her chin affectionately. "They told me what happened in sickbay," he said softly, his face almost awed. "That you fought for me, against what everyone told you to do including your commanding officer." His face flushed with emotion. "No-one has every risked so much for me before Christine. Why did you do it?"

Christine had to look away from his glowing face, almost embarrassed that she hadn't done it solely because it was him being expelled from the ship. "Because what they were doing was wrong. I couldn't support them throwing you or anyone else off the ship just because they dared to disagree with the Captain." Christine looked back to him, expecting to see a look of disappointment that he hadn't been her reason for insubordination. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Something akin to pride blazed from his features, his thumb smoothing over her cheek.

"You are the bravest, most compassionate and breathtakingly beautiful woman I have ever met Christine Chapel. Are you sure you're real?" Kirk grinned sheepishly, realising he'd exposed just a little too much of his feelings as Christine's cheeks flared with embarrassed colour. "I totally lucked out with this commanding thing to have you on board the ship, didn't I?"

"Commanding thing?" Thankful of any reason to divert attention away from her embarrassment, Christine wondered what he meant. "What do you mean? Has Spock reinstated you?" She almost laughed out loud at herself for the mere suggestion of it.

Kirk's face darkened slightly at the mention of the Vulcan. "Not exactly. He's removed himself from command for his inability to act rationally under the circumstances. Before he left, Captain Pike named me Acting First Officer. With Spock incapacitated, Command of the Enterprise falls to me." Christine nodded, not questioning the rationale behind the decision. She had seen a leader of men already in Kirk, and wholeheartedly believed he was the right man to be commanding them.

He took her face gently between his hands, his face almost pained. "One of the Medical Cadets told me what Spock tried to do to you when you refused to do what he ordered."Kirk's face flashed with anger, despite the words of the future Spock ringing in his ears of how they would need each other in the years to come. That all seemed insignificant in the face of attempted mind-rape. "I swear he will pay for it Christine. I'm going to have him thrown in the Brig and when we get back to Earth, I'll have him Court Martialled and booted from Starfleet so fast -..."

"You can't do that," Christine interceded. Taking his hands in own, she lifted them away from her face and held them in her lap. "He didn't hurt me James, I don't think he ever meant to either. And you said it yourself, he hasn't been acting rationally. I know he's a good man deep down under that Vulcan mask he wears. He's just suffering the loss of everything he's ever known; his home and his whole planet. Who among us wouldn't lose our sanity just a little in the face of so much loss? Surely we can't punish him for grieving for his loved ones, can we?"

James looked confused and impressed in equal measures, and Christine suspected he was slightly relieved although that made no sense considering the open animosity the pair had displayed for one another previously. "Only you could see the good in a man who tried to violate your thoughts." Leaning forward, he touched his lips softly against hers, tenderly expressing his admiration of her. "Alright, I'll leave him be. For you."

"Thank you," Christine sighed with relief, stroking the backs of his hands with her thumbs. If nothing else, she knew Nyota would never forgive her if she allowed her friend's lover to lose his career because of one moment of misjudged anger. "So then, Acting Captain Kirk, what will be your first command? Are we going to join the rest of the fleet in the Laurentian system?"

He arched an eyebrow at being named Captain, but said nothing. "First of all, you are officially reinstated to full active duty on board the Enterprise. Bones almost had an aneurism when he told me how much he needs you down in Medical; something about inept junior Doctors or something?" Christine giggled with amusement at the idea of the doctor getting so worked up, and could easily picture him ranting at the Medical staff. "Also, I will be issuing a recommendation for a commendation from Starfleet for your valour and unswerving dedication to the values and principles of Starfleet in a difficult situation. It took guts to do what you did, and nobody should forget that."

"James," Christine flushed coyly, despite her pleasure at his words. His obvious pride in her was all the recognition she needed.

"I'm serious," he grinned as he ran his hands up and down the length of her arms, unable to resist claiming her lips in another brief kiss. "As soon as I get back, that's my first task."

"Back? Back from where?" Christine arched an eyebrow. She had no clue where he could be going at a time like this.

For the first time since he'd entered her quarters, James looked uncomfortable. Maybe it was her imagination, but she was sure he was trying to avoid her eyes. A small seed of panic nestled itself in the pit of her stomach, but she fought to keep it there. It didn't make sense for her to start getting concerned, at least not until he'd had the chance to explain himself. After all, how bad could it be?

Kirk's hands found hers, their fingers interlocking. "I have to get Pike back Christine. I can't leave him in the hands of the Romulans, not after everything they've done. I've ordered a change of course, and we're going to catch up to the Narada at earth. I just hope we get to them before they do to our home what they did to Vulcan."

Despite Kirk's troubled expression, Christine forced the issue. "When you say you have to get Pike back, you mean you're going to send an Away Team, right? You wouldn't actually consider going over there yourself, would you?"

The look in his eye told her everything she needed to know. He was going to do this himself. Feeling like she was about to have a panic attack, Christine focused on keeping her breathing even whilst trying to listen to his explanation. "I have to do this Christine. Spock and I are going to beam over to get the Captain back and stop the Romulans before they destroy earth."

"You don't _have_ to do this," she blurted. "You could just as easily send an Away Team over there." Kirk's face was set in resolution, but she persisted anyway. "Pike left you in command of this ship James. Your place is on the Bridge, not in a suicide mission on board a Romulan vessel. Being a Captain means knowing when the occasion calls for delegation."

"And it also means knowing when you have to do things yourself." Leaning forward, he cupped her face between his hands. "Look, I _have_ to do this Christine. I have to stop them now, before they ruin the lives of a million other families. Can't you understand that?"

"What I understand is that you are so hell bent on getting revenge against that Romulan Captain that killed your father that you'll risk your own life to get it." Ignoring the shock on Kirk's face, Christine disentangled herself from his lap. She hadn't meant to bring up a painful memory so tactlessly but her thoughts were running at the ferocity of a steam train. She couldn't keep up with them, let alone put a filter on what came out from her mouth.

Kirk rose from the bed to follow her, but she took several steps back to put distance between them and he stopped dead in his tracks. Christine needed space and air so she could think clearly and understand what this meant, and that wouldn't happen whilst he was near her.

In the cruellest twist of fate, Christine could see her life repeating itself all over again. Just when she thought she'd found someone worthwhile and had forged the courage to move on from Roger, things were all falling to pieces around her. Once again, she was taking second place in someone's life for their work. It didn't matter that they had feelings for one another; James was too focused on getting his revenge against Nero to give her a second thought, even if that meant his death. And it probably would. Christine didn't have to be a genius to realise that there was no hope of success on a mission like that, and she suspected that he knew that.

The knowledge made the sinking feeling worse. She was second best again. This was Roger, mark two. Only this time it wasn't just work that had beaten her out of someone's attention, it was the prospect of death.

"This is suicide," she whispered, the sting of tears attacking her eyes. "Don't do this James, please. There has to be a better way than you losing your life for no good reason. Do you really think Pike is still alive? The Romulans didn't blink an eyelid when they destroyed Vulcan. What use would there be in keeping a single Starfleet Captain hostage?"

The Acting Captain had already considered that. "I have to try," he said softly. Taking a measured step toward her, he couldn't ignore the fact that she backed herself up against the wall in response. She was trying to get away from him and he wouldn't let that happen again. "I have to save Pike, if I can. And I know the risks of this mission, but Spock and I can do this. Have a little faith."

"Spock and I can do this," Christine repeated, her voice cracking. "Two minutes ago you were offering to have him confined to the Brig and throw away the key, and now you think you're going to stage a successful rescue mission?"

"I would confine him to the brig once we go back, if that's what you wanted." He'd crossed to her now, and placed his hands on her shoulders. "But I can't do this without him. I need Spock in this."

Christine couldn't hold back the sob that escaped. "So you'd rather risk your life, side by side with someone you can't stand..." She raised her eyes to his, not caring that they were leaking tears. "...than stay here and be safe, with me?"

A pained look crossed his features, and Kirk pulled her into his arms, cradling Christine against his chest. "I want to be with you Christine, and I swear I will come back. I promise you."

Despite the comfort she had once drawn from the safety of his embrace, Christine could feel a cold chill spreading from her heart out to her limbs. Her mouth engaged of its' own volition, although it could only voice what she was truly feeling. "Don't expect me to be waiting for you James."

He stiffened against her, and slowly lowered his arms. His eyes sort to make contact with hers; unable to believe she had just said those words to him. She refused to meet his gaze, instead looking blankly to the windows of her cabin. Against his better judgement, Kirk pressed his lips against her forehead before stepping away, walking toward the door. He had a mission to complete, and as much as he wished he could stay with Christine and sort this out, he knew he no longer had the time. People were relying on him to do his duty, even if for the first time he wondered if there could be something more important than it.

Turning back from the doorway, he was saddened that she still couldn't even meet his eyes. "I will be back Christine," he said again, not sure if she was even listening. "I promise."

Those words could have been said two minutes, or even two hours ago as far as Christine knew. She'd lost herself along the way, shocked into an almost catatonia that she'd been so wrong about James. She'd complete misjudged his character; he was no better than Roger and even less dependable. At least Roger had gone through the motions and proposed to her. They'd barely shared their first kiss and already Kirk seemed to want to be anywhere but with her. But as the words James spoke registered in her skewed thoughts, Christine's head snapped up but it was already too late. The door to her quarters was closed, and James was long gone.

Unable to support herself anymore, Christine sank slowly down to the ground, her green eyes swimming in tears and wide with shock as the room felt somehow colder without James there. This couldn't be happening to her again. Not after all these years, and all she'd just come to terms with. How could she be losing herself to her emotions when she'd worked so hard to protect her heart from them in the first place?

Could men only ever disappoint her? Or was it just the men that she chose to fall for? Was she attracted to men that could only ever break her heart? Was she that stupid to fall for them time after time? If her feelings for James Kirk were anything to judge by, then the answer was yes.

There certainly was no choice in it, Christine knew that much. The first time she'd met him, Christine had known James Kirk was not a good idea. Against her better judgement and every wall she'd ever built to protect herself, he had still found his way to the heart of her. He was irresistible in that respect and Christine had to reconcile that with her feelings of failure. She could never have denied him in the first place, or have ignored the desire she felt when he was near.

But there was more to it than simple lust, she was certain. Christine wasn't just picturing the muscles of his arms when he held her between them. The nurse felt safe and warm when he did, and there was definitely more to him that a devastating smile and supernatural blue eyes.

She remembered now the glimpse of the man he could become that she'd seen in him. He'd taken the time to console her during her grieving, to give her confidence when she didn't believe in herself. Even the lowest of playboys wouldn't go to that much effort just to score with a girl.

Christine had known it then that he was a leader, that James Tiberius Kirk was destined for greater things than just being a suspended Cadet. Hadn't Christine herself said that she would have been honoured to serve under him? If that was the case, could she really be so angry at him for doing his job now? He may have been the _Acting_ Captain, but he had been right in saying sometimes the risk was the Captain's to take. It was his duty to save his superior officer if he could, and she felt instantly guilty for suggesting that Pike was anything but alive.

The truth was that Kirk's decision was never about her. He was doing his duty at a Starfleet Officer, and she'd had no right to question that duty. Was she that incredulous to judge him for being chivalrous and an outstanding officer in a time of real crisis? She was being selfish, Christine understood that now, and had projected her own insecurities onto him and that was unfair. He hadn't chosen the mission over her because it was never a choice in the first place.

Feeling foolish, Christine remembered the last words she'd said to him, and clamped her hand over her gaping mouth. Unable to believe her own callous attitude, she felt a fresh wave of tears threaten to spill. Would he really have believed her when she said she wouldn't wait for him to come back? In some ways, Christine felt as though she'd been waiting for James Kirk all her life. However there was to time to wallow in feelings of self pity, she had to do something about this before she ruined everything all over again. If there was even a chance Kirk was still on board, and that he would listen to her, she had to get to him.

Before she realised what was happening, Christine found herself sprinting down the corridor toward the turbolift. She'd left her quarters far behind, and still hadn't managed to put on her uniform boots. That didn't matter now though. The only concern she had was of getting to James before he beamed off the ship. She couldn't let him go without apologising for her reaction, and vowing to be here waiting for him when he got back.

Reaching the turbolift, she silently thanked the unseen powers of the universe for being on her side. The carriage was empty, and she raced inside, hardly able to select the appropriate floor for the Transporter room because her hands were trembling so badly. As the door began to close, she heard a disembodied voice calling for her to hold the lift. Squeezing her eyes shut at the guilt, she purposefully ignored the call. She just didn't have time to wait, as there was every chance she'd miss Kirk's departure if she hadn't already.

The turbolift ride felt like the longest one ever. If she didn't know better, Christine would have sword it had taken her all over the ship and not to the specified destination. When it finally got to the required deck, the doors barely had time to part before Christine came flying through, running as fast as her legs would carry her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her lungs working to the peak as she raced against time to make it to the transporter room.

It came into sight as Christine rounded the corner; her legs pumping as she sped towards it. Her momentum was so great that she was unable to stop directly outside it, but managed to stagger her way back after skidding right past it. She'd made it, and now she just had to get inside.

The doors parted on her expectant face, ocean green eyes hopefully darting around the room for a sign of James. However all she saw was the receding glow of the transporter as it faded from a completed transport. The pad was empty, Kirk and Spock already materializing on the Romulan ship.

Crestfallen was not the word for what Christine felt. She'd missed her chance to put things right with James, and if the mission failed like she feared it would, Christine realised she would never have the chance to. Those spiteful, self-centred words could very well be the last ones she ever would have the chance to say to him.

In front of her, Uhura turned around to see who else had joined them, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears as Christine felt the weight of guilt crushing her. Without words, the women embraced one another, clinging onto the other for support and understanding. It didn't matter that they'd argued about Spock, or that one owed the other an honest apology. They simply understood what the other was going through; that she needed the support of the other. Christine and Nyota were united in the knowledge that they might not see the most important men in their lives again.

Christine shivered at that thought, pulling Nyota tighter against her hoping to protect herself from the impending despair.

_Please let him be alright, _she silently begged to whatever power that was listening_. Please bring James back to me._


	13. The End of Everything

_**A/N**__: Update! I'm sorry to keep you waiting for so long. Thank you for the reviews, please keep them coming as I like to hear what you make of this. I've altered the plot slightly to make the chapter flow better, I hope you don't mind too much! We have a chapter and an epilogue left! Please read and review! I disclaim!_

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Uhura reluctantly pulled back from Christine's embrace. Despite herself, the wetness she felt on her cheeks was a clear indication that she'd failed to keep her tears at bay. She needn't have felt embarrassed however; the glistening cheeks were mirrored in the face of Christine who brushed a thumb quickly over her cheek to catch a stray tear. Nyota was baffled at the reaction in her friend, unable to say what could possibly be upsetting Christine over the situation. She'd known Kirk had been spending time with her, but had something happened between them that she didn't know about? Had they grown closer in the way that could be expected to reduce a woman to tears?

She felt guilty for not having spoken to her friend for so long. The last time they'd exchanged words, they parted tersely, something Uhura had regretted. Whilst she stood by her defence of Spock, she realised now that perhaps she could have shown more sympathy for her friend. It wasn't as if Christine was made of metal at the best times. Nyota could only imagine how frightening it must have been to have someone try and attack you, and to rip knowledge from your mind, all because you thought you were doing what was right. And then for nobody to stand beside you must have been soul destroying.

Deep down, Nyota wondered whether she herself could have done more when the situation occurred. She'd felt that banishing Kirk from the ship had been extreme, but had remained silent. Christine had been the only one to speak up against the decision, and she'd paid the ultimate price for it. Kirk had made it clear he was going to reinstate her before he left the ship, but Nyota wondered if her friend would ever forgive her for abandoning her when she needed support the most. She wouldn't have changed her actions, but that didn't mean she didn't feel guilty for it now.

Regardless of her personal involvement with Spock, Christine had been her closest friend for many years, and she'd failed in her duty as a friend to support her when she needed. She had always sworn never to be one of those women that chose a man over her friend, yet here she was feeling awful for doing that exact same thing. Nyota desperately wanted to make it up to her, if Christine would give her the chance.

"Christine, I - ..."

"Nyota," Christine interjected. "I know what you're about to say and you really don't need to. I know you were only protecting Spock, and it was never your intention to hurt me. And you were right, none of us were thinking clearly then. I don't blame Spock for what he tried to do, and I actually admire you for your devotion to him."

Uhura blushed under her friends kind words that she didn't deserve, feeling like she was preventing her from apologising. "I only hope that you can forgive my reaction. You didn't deserve the things I said, and I know you'd defend me with as much dedication if the need ever came."

"Oh, Christine." The Nurse was startled briefly, as her friend engulfed her in a tight hug. Smiling, Christine squeezed her friend tenderly, glad that they were able to mend the damage she had caused with her careless actions.

"Wait, I have to apologise too." Nyota leaned back to study her friends face intently. Christine moved to object, but she wouldn't allow it. "No, I do. You did something no-one else had the courage to do; you stood up for what was right even when everyone around you did nothing." Uhura looked troubled as she tried to explain herself. "And you were right; I should have said something to Spock when he started behaving irrationally. It's just...I was afraid. I was afraid of pushing him away when he needed me the most by not supporting him. I wanted to support him, but he wouldn't let me close. And now I don't if...if..."

"He'll be alright," Christine soothed, holding her friend close as her body trembled with stifled sobs. "They will both be alright. Spock and James will come back safe and with Captain Pike, you'll see. We just need to have a little faith in them."

Uhura nodded, wiping tears away from her eyes. "What's the story with you and James anyway? Is that why you came down here, barefoot and everything?"

Christine flushed with colour as she looked down at her bare feet. She curled her toes slightly, feeling more than a little exposed. "I've been such a fool Nyota, about everything. And now I think I've lost my one chance to set things right again."

"I don't understand." Nyota admitted, confusion shining through her beautiful dark eyes.

"There's so much that I've avoided dealing with Nyota, so much that I locked away just so I wouldn't have to face it at all. I pretended to everyone around me... and even myself that I was okay, that I'd dealt with everything. And the truth is I just buried it all in a place where it wasn't dominating my every waking thought. I chose to lose myself in Starfleet studies. It was easier than coping with everything."

Nyota nodded, but remained silent knowing that her friend had to get a terrible weight off her shoulders. "I haven't been _me_ for a really long time. I've been like this ship, really. Just operating under a set of instructions that I've followed to the letter." Christine pursed her lips as she tried to explain it in a better way. "I've been existing, not living. Not feeling, just going through the motions." She brought her gaze to Uhura's face and held it despite the threat of tears. "Roger hurt me Nyota, so much. He... he ruined me. He took away every opportunity I ever had just so he could keep me for himself, and what's worse is that I _let_ him do it. I thought that if I could just prove to him...that we would..."

Christine trailed off for a moment, lost in forgotten memories and murky dreams that didn't apply to her life anymore. "Well that doesn't matter, does it? He left me with nothing...as nothing, just a hollow shell. I felt broken for so long, like I was missing a piece that could never be replaced. And I couldn't..._didn't_ know how to fix myself."

Christine felt Uhura's thumb catch a tear on her cheek as she continued. "I was too afraid to start studying to become a Doctor again, that somehow I wasn't good enough anymore. At the same time, I was desperate to prove that what Roger first saw in me was real, that I was worthwhile. I guess I hoped I could win him back, if I became the best Nurse in Starfleet and he could see that was I was good enough for him."

Uhura pulled a face like she'd smelled something offensive. "I know, I know. I'm idiot who is glutton for punishment. Anyway, coming here, being on board this ship has forced me to take a long, hard look at my life and the person I've become. I've faced my fears. And the truth is, I know now that I have worth. I am a good Nurse and I have a lot to offer Starfleet. I guess I realised that I like who I am. I like Christine Chapel."

Nyota grinned, holding her friends hands in her own. "Me too."

Christine smiled. "I see what you and Spock have, and I understand now that being devoted to someone isn't a bad thing in itself. It's the person that you're devoted to that makes the difference. I wasn't foolish for believing in someone, I just made a mistake in putting my trust in Roger. Spock is a good man Nyota, and I know he loves you very much. And being on board this ship, I think I've found someone who I can actually believe in again."

"Farm boy," Nyota intoned with an arched eyebrow even though she grinned at the name. Christine could only chuckle.

"Yes, the farm boy. I know he can be headstrong and arrogant and pretty much intolerable. But underneath that, is the purest heart I've ever known. He is valiant Nyota, and compassionate. He cares about others more than himself, and would risk his life for another because it's the right thing to do. He makes me feel brave and want to be a better person. And he believed in me when I couldn't believe in myself. I know James will be a great leader someday, and I'd be so proud to serve on a ship under his command, if he'd have me."

"Are you crazy? Of course he'd take you. The fact that he's been there so much for you must be a testament to that, surely?" Uhura shook her head, laughing at the idea that someone would be averse to taking Christine on board their ship.

"Well, whatever happens. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm ready to come back to life, and go back to career I'd originally planned for myself." Christine sighed, clearly content with herself. Just admitting what she's known for a while now invigorated her, right down into her soul. She truly was ready to come back to the human race again.

"Oh Christine!" Uhura sobbed once more, crushing the strawberry blonde nurse to her chest and sobbing all over again.

Christine gasped, feeling like her lungs were being squeezed into nothing beneath her rib cage because Uhura hugged so tight. She fought to hug Nyota back, only her friend had managed to pin her arms at her side preventing that, and she had no choice but to let her friend get it out of her system. "What did I say now?"

Nyota leaned back, holding her friend's face between her hands, dark eyes taking in every inch of Christine face. "It's nothing. It's just...well, I think I just got my best friend back, that's all."

Both women chuckled, interlocking their fingers together in a motion of friendship and solidarity. Christine drew comfort from her friend, silently grateful to her for being there over the years. She couldn't think of a way she could ever repay Nyota for her dedication and unwavering support, how could she? There were very few people who would put with a woman in the trance she'd been in for so long. But she vowed that come what may she would always be there for her friend, no matter what.

"_Bridge to Uhura."_

Frowning slightly, Uhura moved to one of the communication panels against the wall. Pushing a button, she spoke into it. "Uhura here, what's the matter Sulu?"

"_You'd better come up here. The Nerada has started drilling into Earth's core, and we've lost contact with the Away Team." _

Gasping softly, Uhura immediately straightened into the stance of a true Starfleet officer. Her mouth set into a grim line, she flicked the switch off after delivering her reply. The concerned woman Nyota was gone, in her place the formal Communications Officer Uhura. "We're on our way."

Without questioning, Christine fell into step behind her friend, both women marching to the turbolift to join the rest of the command crew on the bridge.

By the time they reached their destination, the bridge was alive with activity. Officers flittered around, barking out orders and details of scanning reports. Everyone seemed to have a job to do, yet it looked like total anarchy to the arriving women. Without Spock, Pike or Kirk, no-one seemed to be commanding this conclave of action. Uhura looked lost in the sea of uniforms rushing around, and Christine had backed up against the wall to stay out of the main throb of activity.

"Sulu!" Uhura finally called, marching across the bridge and bursting through a group of junior Lieutenants to reach his station. "What's happening out there?"

He glanced up, his features pinched into a grim mask. "The Nerada has started drilling near the Academy. We're getting sensor reports of severe causalities and damage to the area, but the drill is interfering with our communications again. We're cut off from with Earth. As soon as the drill went online, we lost all contact with Spock and Kirk. We're on our own."

The Enterprise had hidden herself in the gaseous rings of Titan, so Uhura doubted whether Earth even knew they were nearby. If the Nerada did, they either weren't bothered by the presence of the would-be flagship, or they were far too consumed with their murderous intentions for Earth to do anything about them.

"Sulu," Pavel Chekov interrupted, leaning off his seat to check the readings on his station. "Sensors indicate another _w_essel that has appeared from within the Nerada." His brows furrowed softly, as he could not identify the craft. "It is of unfamiliar design, but I am detecting a single life sign. There is a Vulcan on board."

Chekov's meaningful glance brought Christine from the back of the bridge down to where the three other Cadets were grouped. She'd stood on the sidelines long enough and had to know what was going on out there. If James was on that Romulan monstrosity, and Spock was onboard that little ship by all accounts, it meant Kirk was alone in the belly of the beast. Almost without realising, Christine placed her hand on Uhura's lower back, steadying her friend in an effort to support her as much as calm her own fears for Kirk.

"Spock."

Uhura whispered his name so gently that Christine wasn't certain she'd heard it. Her friend had obviously become lost for a moment to her feelings for her superior officer who was also her lover. There was a limit to a person's reserves, and Nyota had clearly reached hers. No matter how talented and gifted she was, at her heart she was still and Academy student, unseasoned and new to life on board a Starship. None of them had been ready for this, for a real mission that threatened whole planets, and it seemed as though the cracks were beginning to show. Christine could see it on the faces of everyone around, these men and women, her fellow inexperienced Academy Students looked pained, stressed and exhausted. The choices they made here and now would affect the future of their planet, and that was an awful weight to carry for even the most experienced of Starship commanders.

"Can we see it, Pavel?" Christine asked, trying as much to divert attention away from Uhura as to actually witness what was going on outside the ship.

He nodded, punching in a few commands causing the viewscreen to polarize. Before them, they saw the strange ship bank around the Nerada, heading straight for the drilling platform. In a handful of moments, things happened that Christine struggled to comprehend because they occurred in such swift succession. After a few shots from the ship Spock piloted, the drilling platform connected to the Romulan vessel was severed. All around her, a chorus of voices informed Christine that the drill was now inoperable, and they had resumed communication links with Earth and the Away Team. Casualty reports flooded in faster than the communications team could answer them, as well reports and the damage done to San Francisco.

Christine was briefly mesmerized by the sight of the falling drill platform, it's tethered link like the umbilical cord connecting it to the Nerada. Without the connection, the drill was useless.

However it wasn't over. Spock's vessel jumped to warp right after the drill had plummeted to Earth, and in a matter of seconds the Nerada had gone after them, obviously beginning a hunt to the death to avenge it's defeated weapon.

"We have to follow!" Uhura demanded, coming out of her momentary trance to realise what was happening before her. If the Enterprise could not outmatch the Nerada in a battle, what chance did that tiny ship Spock piloted have? "Sulu, can you lock in a pursuit course?"

"I can...but what about Earth?" The question stopped everyone present as they considered the gravity of the situation. The Nerada has significantly damaged the central core of Starfleet's operations. Damage and causality reports were still coming in from the ground, and as the only Starship close, the Enterprise had a duty to go to the planet's aid.

But things were never that simple. Currently being hounded to his unavoidable demise, Commander Spock was leading the Nerada far away. He would need them as much as Earth would, not to mention Kirk and Pike who were still onboard the Romulan vessel. Did they abandon their planet to aid their fellow crewmembers, or sacrifice their comrades to assist a devastated Starfleet headquarters?

"We follow the Nerada."

Christine hadn't realised she'd spoken till everyone turned to face her. With so many shocked and incredulous gazes sent her way, she struggled to remain calm. But she knew she was right, and they had to go after the Romulan threat first. "Earth needs us, that is true. But they have people on the ground for their immediate problems. We have to stop that Romulan ship here and now or we run the risk of it getting away to devastate another planet. And I don't know about anyone else, but I'm not prepared to sacrifice a single member of our crew to do that. This could be our only chance to stop that awful ship."

Silence met her impassioned reasoning, and for a moment Christine feared everyone would start laughing at her. After all who was she, a mere Nurse to be stood on board the bridge of the fleet's soon to be named flagship, delivering justification for orders that she had absolutely no right to make. Just as she considered fleeing the bridge in shame, she caught Uhura's eyes upon her. Her friend's face shone with pride, and Christine knew she'd said the right thing.

"Yes ma'am," Sulu finally answered on behalf of what there remained of the command crew, a faint smile playing at his lips. "I'm locking in pursuit course." His fingers flew deftly over the control panel. "Arming phaser banks and photon torpedo launchers. All hands to battle stations...engines engaged."

Christine felt the subtle vibration as the ship adjusted itself to faster than light travel. On the viewscreen ahead of them, the stars seemed to blend into one single giant burst as they were propelled forward into an unknown situation. The Nerada was clearly an advanced and powerful vessel, but that didn't mean they couldn't be bested by their ship; the Enterprise. And if any of the three men currently entangled with the Romulan ship had been present, Christine was certain they'd have made the same choice as they had. One way or another, this horrid episode of world murdering was going to end within a few light years of Earth.

"Mr. Spock's ship has come out of warp," Chekov intoned in his thick Eastern European accent, eyes focused on the readouts from his sensors. "The Nerada has matched its' trajectory. Oh _nyet_..."

"Chekov, what?" Christine moved to the young Russian, puzzled by his reaction.

"The Nerada...it has fired at Spock's ship. There are so many torpedoes..." Christine glanced toward Uhura, who looked terrified at the prospect. Placing her hand on Chekov's shoulder, she peered into his worried eyes. "Pavel, according to your medical records you have some of the fastest reflexes on record for Starfleet."

"_Da._"

"And is it also true that you are something of a mathematical genius?" He nodded, eyes betraying his unease at where Christine's line of questioning was taking them. "Then would it be hypothetically possible to destroy each and every single one of those torpedoes with the Enterprise's phaser banks?" Now it was Chekov's turn to look horrified. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Well..._da_. It could be done. But the reaction time to retarget the phasers to a new group of missiles, taking into account their propulsion and the variance of the targets would have to be done manually as the ship's targeting scanner would need at least..." Trailing off, he startled everyone as he slammed his hands down on the consol. "_Da_! Yes! It can be done. I can do it! Sulu, give me phaser control."

Sulu nodded, diverting control of the phaser banks to his younger colleague. Chekov worked quickly, disengaging automatic targeting locks and hammering in equations into the computer's targeting system. "Phasers armed and ready."

"Coming out of warp in five, four, three, two..."

"I have every faith in you, Chekov." Christine whispered into his ear, softly squeezing his shoulder, noting the faint blush that came to his cheeks in response.

"...one..."

"Firing phasers!"

As the view screen slowed down to normal speed, it suddenly became bathed in red as Chekov launched a deadly volley of phaser bursts. It was like a murderous rainfall, each streak of red ploughing into an oncoming Romulan torpedo, destroying them long before they reached the ship that Spock piloted on a collision course for the Nerada. Not a single torpedo was spared from Chekov's mathematical massacre, dozens of explosions blooming on all sides of the ship Spock manned.

"He's going to ram the ship!" Chekov yelled, eyes wide as he plotted the trajectory of Spock. "Impact will occur in...one minute!"

"Bridge to transporter room!" Uhura barked, running to the captain's chair and hitting the communicator there.

"_Scott here."_

"Mister Scott, you've got about sixty seconds to get a transporter lock on Spock, Kirk and Pike and get them back to the Enterprise before they're all killed!" Uhura leaned over the arm of the chair, speaking directly into the communicator.

"_Sixty seconds...I'm not a bloody miracle worker missy! You're talking about beaming three people from two places at the same time to single transporter pad. It's not possible...nor has it ever been attempted before! I'd have to locate them first before I could even get a transporter lock!"_

"There's a first time for everything Mister Scott! I'm on my way now." And with that, Uhura hit the communicator panel to off and fled to the turbolift.

"Well done Pavel," Christine enthused, patting him on the back. "Would you ask Doctor McCoy to meet us in the transporter room, he may be needed."

Chekov nodded, as Christine broke into a run to the turbolift where Uhura stood, ready to head the transporter room to meet hopefully all three men. No sooner was she inside the carriage had Uhura hit the panel to propel them back down to the transporter. It felt like she spent most of her life in one of these carriages, but immediately pushed those thoughts aside to focus on the here and now.

Christine turned to her friend to see the tears streaming down her cheeks. Without question, Christine reached out to take Nyota's hand in her own. She could empathise with how she felt, but didn't have the luxury of showing it. If she started crying now, even out of fear for James's safety, Christine wasn't sure she'd have the strength to stop again.

She vowed to be made of stronger metal now. She wanted her heart to be an impregnable as the very bulkheads that kept the cold reaches space on the outside of the Enterprise. Christine had to be strong now, for Uhura and for herself. The time for being afraid and unsure, of blaming her inexperience on her failures was over. The time for her to step up and be the woman others saw in her was now.

The lift came to a stop, the doors parting as Uhura brushed the tears away from her cheeks. Without a word both women set off through the corridor, a determined march of hope and defiance. They had to believe that the Away Team was alright, that they were going to be returned to them safe and unharmed. To think of the alternative would be their downfall; it would slow their steps and gnaw at their resolve and hope. So they carried on putting one foot in front of the other, forcing themselves to face whatever was delivered to them in the transporter room by riding on a wave of faith.

As the doors to the transporter room loomed before them, Christine faltered. For the briefest of moments, she allowed her thoughts to stray to that forbidden place; to the world where James wasn't brought back to her, where he was lost in the line of duty. She literally stumbled, her hand shooting out to steady herself against the wall. Her bare feet scuffed across the carpeted floor, and warm burning spreading across her toes.

What would she do, if that was the truth? Could she go on knowing that she'd lost the one person who'd allowed her to believe in herself again? To know that she would never be able to put right the awful things she'd said and make him realise what an amazing man she was by showing James himself through her eyes. Would that phenomenal kiss they shared actually be their last?

With her breath choking in her throat, Christine steadied herself against the wall. Uhura obviously hadn't noticed her friend's momentary lapse in faith as she carried on toward the transporter room without looking back. Shaking her head gently, Christine held her hand to her chest, feeling the pounding rhythm of her heart beating against her chest. She was afraid to see what waited on the other side of those doors, but knew she had no choice but to look. Pulling herself up from the wall, her mind forced her legs into action, and she followed in Uhura's wake to the doorway.

The doors opened before her, just as the transporter glowed with light. That familiar hummed whine indicated the pad was active, as the molecules of unknown persons were currently being transported from one place to another in the blink of an eye. A maelstrom of white light swirled around the pads, and Christine instantly knew there was more than one person being brought on board. Uhura was haloed in light as she stood before the pad, waiting anxiously to see who would be saved from certain death. At the control panel, the new engineer called Scotty was hunched forward, clearly taxing his abilities as he made the impossible reality.

Christine realised that she was looking everywhere but forwards; seeing everyone else but those she was desperate to see safe and unharmed. Finally, her ocean blue eyes lifted and they were met by those the colour of an arctic sky. It was James. And he was alive.

Relief flooded through her, softening her shoulders and weakening her knees. Kirk stood to the left, supporting an obviously ruined Captain Pike. Next to them, the tall frame of the Vulcan Spock who reached out his arms to catch the beaming Uhura. Christine smiled, glad for her friend. She met Kirk's gaze a second time, feeling the weight of unanswered questions behind his eyes. Christine couldn't know what he wanted from her, but she didn't shrink from his stare. She smiled softly, tilting her head to express her gratitude that he had been brought back to the ship safely.

All around them, people rushed forward. A medical team bustled through the door, and she stepped aside as they reached for Pike. Several officers surrounded James and Spock, and they disappeared from her view. Taking a step back, Christine glanced one more time at the transporter pad before slipping out of the doors. She heard them close behind her, and she only carried on walking. She understood now, that it was finally over. She'd come to this ship a broken shell of a woman, and through the valiant strength and affection of James Kirk, she'd come back to life. Part of her would always be grateful to him for helping her realise that she was a woman of passion and fire, but she knew now that the time had come to move on.

She had come to this ship plagued by her demons, and she would leave it free of her past. Christine had been healed, and she knew it was time now for her to go back to the life she had abandoned so long ago. There were still cracks in her heart that needed repairing, and she knew that could only be done face on and without fear, using her knew found strength to accept her mistakes and heal old wounds. She had to go back to where it all started so that she could begin again, and that meant leaving the Enterprise, and her courageous acting Captain behind. Maybe one day, she'd come back to Starfleet and to the Enterprise. But as of right now, her time here was done.

Christine had walked around the corner by the time the doors to the transporter room parted again. Kirk darted out into the corridor, head turning back and forth in an effort to find Christine. Hope had rekindled in his heart when he'd seen her standing there; her eyes bright from tears, the soft pink flush colouring her cheeks as she smiled at them. He'd honestly believed any chance he'd had of having her in his life gone, but then he was given a reprieve by her coming to witness his return.

He'd tried to get to her as the officers surrounded him, peeking over their heads to catch a glimpse of her. But as the crowd parted, he realised she was gone. She'd left the transporter room and him behind, and now he couldn't find her. He had so much to say, to apologise for if she'd only let him. Kirk started to walk in the direction that she'd gone, but was stopped as Spock and Uhura came out into the corridor behind him. Duty bound him once more, and he was forced to accept the knowledge that this would always be his life. Despite what his heart begged him to do, James Kirk knew he was needed on the bridge, and he could no more turn his back on that responsibility than he could bring Vulcan back.

It seemed his chance at redemption in the eyes of Christine Chapel would have to wait. Even as his heart pulled him toward her, Kirk began walking in the opposite direction.


	14. Flaws and All

_**A/N**__: Update! A new chapter for your reading pleasure, and the final one at that. Thank you very much for those of you who have reviewed, it really does mean a lot to me as a writer that you take a few moments to share your thoughts of the story with me. I hope this chapter was worth the wait, it was one of the first 'scenes' I imagined for the story and really enjoyed writing it. As always, if you read this chapter I would love it if you would take the time to review. I'm going to work on the epilogue this weekend and should have it posted hopefully by the middle of next week._

_I disclaim. Read and review!_

* * *

_**Three months later**_

Pulling her hair out of the loose ponytail that it had been kept it, Christine sighed as it fell around her shoulders. Just beyond the roof of the Academy building, the sun had dipped out of the sky and dusk fell all around her. Another day spent aiding the repair crews had come to an exhausted end. Her arms and thighs ached from the physical labour, the muscles heavy and stiff from the blood that pooled there. But she enjoyed the sensation regardless. It was immediate proof that her day had been worth something; that she'd gained something from being here and had been a part of the restoration project. She'd even refused to have the bruise on her left collar bone removed by the medical team after a falling beam had struck her there. She wore it like a badge of honour, as proof that she'd done some good here and the discoloured flesh was worthy of being displayed.

Slinging her gloves into her messenger bag, she hung it over her shoulder as she headed for the transporter pad. Her overalls stuck to her skin uncomfortably, the setting sun having little effect on the unseasonably warm weather. Rivulets of sweat had dried on her skin, the hair that hung over her forehead and at the back of her neck damp and clinging to her. Christine wanted nothing more than to get out of the dusky grey working clothes, to strip down into nothingness and feel the evening breeze cool on her pale flesh.

However a strip tease at the end of a working day was not going to happen, so she vowed to suffer for a little while longer until she returned home for the weekend. Two blissful days to rest and recover before the operation began all over again on Monday.

Every week day morning of the past three months, the repair crews and Starfleet Task Forces had gathered on earth to repair the damage Nero and his Romulan weapon had done to their planet. They all met nearby at the front of the Academy, and were routinely separated into their units and were given their daily orders by the Captains and Admirals that could be spared to help coordinate the efforts.

At first, Christine had strictly been part of the medical detail, using her unmatched medical skills to help those who had been injured during the Nerada's attack on Earth. After a few days however, all those who needed help had been recovered and shipped off to the nearby hospitals or triage centres and were being cared for by non-Starfleet medical personnel. Feeling like her usefulness was coming to an end, Christine had found herself volunteering for any of the other existing crews that could use and extra pair of hands.

Having being assigned to the clearing crew, Christine had quickly been made a project leader of a structural repair team, and had been responsible for organising and supervising the repairs to the science wing of the Academy. Repairs were slow, the damage severe and rubble difficult to clear. The work had often become maddening in its painstaking deliberateness, but finally things were starting to take shape again. The structure of the building had been repaired, and the damaged resources were going to be replaced next week. Hopefully, the wing could be reopened in a month and the Academy students could resume lectures as normal.

Now that was over however, Christine wondered where she'd be sent too next. After three months working here, there were few big tasks left, most repair teams just mopping up the last few existing issues. She'd been part of the effort since leaving the Enterprise, requesting to return to Earth the same day the Nerada had been destroyed. With as little notice as possible, she'd slipped off the Enterprise, hiding behind the authority of Leonard McCoy as he took her request to Acting Captain Kirk. She'd had it back within minutes, James happy to release her from duty on board the ship. Part of her had felt hurt at James not resisting her request in any way, but then knew she had no right to feel like that. She couldn't be angry at him for doing what he asked of her, could she? She'd asked to leave, and he'd agreed to let her go.

In actual fact, all she'd done since coming to Earth was think about him. She secretly found herself fantasizing that he'd volunteer himself to the relief efforts and would turn up to gather her into his arm. She knew that was a slim hope.

Her fellow officers weren't helping matters either. However deep she buried herself in work, Christine couldn't ignore the excited chatter about the cadet who'd braved apparently insurmountable odds to save a planet and end a massacre on scales never seen before. He was a sure fire choice for command, and people even were taking bets on which ship he'd be given command of. Christine was glad that others could see the leader in James that she'd spotted months, and was genuinely pleased for him even if she couldn't be a part of his career at that moment.

Even now though, Christine wondered if she'd made the right decision. Personally, she felt as though she'd gone someway to repairing the damage her relationship with Roger had done to her friends and family. She'd even moved back home for the duration of her time on earth, back into the bosom of her family and the familiar routines that she'd left behind at thirteen years of age. It had been false to begin with and full of wounded hearts. But one tearful night of apologies and explanations, and Christine felt as though she was beginning to mend things with her family who had started treating her like their daughter again.

But as secure as she felt that things would be alright with them, Christine could never forget that hint of loss; that soft twinge of guilt of knowing that she'd turned her back on a man who may be more than she'd dared to daydream could be real. Still, Christine knew there was no point in second guessing her decision now. She'd done the right thing for herself, and if that meant she had to live with a few consequences, well then she would do it gladly. The nurse secretly suspected that Kirk had probably moved on by now, and had found himself a new doe eyed cadet to fawn over anyway. Heaven only knew how much he deserved it, considering everything he'd gone through in the past month.

Christine had almost convinced herself that if James was happy moving on, then so she should be happy for him. If only that happiness could fill the chink in her heart that James T. Kirk had left to splinter over time. She wasn't entirely sure she was sorry that she'd left him, rather that they'd never had the opportunity to discover what might have been between them.

There was nothing she could do about it now however. Before she realised it, Christine had reached the queue of repair teams that gathered around the temporary transporter sites. So lost in her thoughts of missed opportunities and musings of the future, she'd managed to cross the entire Academy site to reach the transporters. The units had been placed at the Academy to allow the rapid transfer of repair crews from across the globe in the blink of an eye. At the end of the day, they could all return to their homes, regardless of the distance. She smiled at the officers nearest her, comfortable in the tired silence that surrounded them all.

Wariness slowed all their steps, but the warmth of renewed hope was obvious on all their faces. For now, Christine was satisfied to lose herself in the crowd of her peers and feel the strength of a hard day's work shared with the,.

Reaching the pad, she stepped on it and nodded to the attendant that sat at the control consol. He smiled at her, and she held her Starfleet identification card against a scanner, the location of her transport appeared for the operative and he engaged the device to send her back home.

"Transporting in five...four...three...two...one..."

Christine barely heard the last number as the world faded before her eyes in a glow of white light. The Academy building and the construction site that flanked it vanished in the brilliant glow. It was so bright she had no choice but to close her eyes against the glare. As she opened them again however, the Academy was gone. In its place were the familiar tree trunks of home, as she reappeared on the woodland path that led to her parent's home on the outskirts of New Orleans.

Smiling softly, Christine began wandering down the trodden path, basking in the touch of the warm summer breeze as it played with her strawberry blonde hair. The path was about as wide as the strides of two men, the branches of the trees that lined either side reaching over head to join together and form a sort of canopy to shield the path from the sky. Lighting filtered through the gaps in the leaves, sending spots of fading sunlight dancing over the dirt path like a mirror ball at an old fashioned disco.

The wind whispered its contented song as birds twittered happily all around her. Christine loved finding land like this, unattained by technology of the age and lost in the slow country ways of times gone by. It was a simple country path that led to a simple country home. As she grinned at the thought, the path opened up before her to reveal her parents house. Engulfed by acres of the fields, the old farmhouse stood proudly in the middle, a bastion of old fashioned country design in a desert of modern invention. The building was made mostly of timbre from the local area, the house erected sometime during the 22nd century. It had retained most of its original features and design, even having and old fashioned outdoor bathroom at the rear of the property that was never found anymore.

Around the front, decking and porches held the house safely in their grasp, as the swinging seat at near the front door groaned with age as the breeze disturbed it. Orange paint had faded over the years to a rusty colour, and she always thought the house looked like a lump of copper glinting on the horizon.

In the distance, Christine could hear the whir of a threshing machine, and she guessed her father was harvesting an early crop. That buzz on a summer's evening was a regular feature of her childhood, harmonizing with the hum of insects that flew near the lake toward the back of the property. She found herself comforted by the sound now. So much had changed in her life since her childhood, yet coming home now made her feel like she'd never left in the first place.

Heading down the winding dirt driveway, she let her hands fall into the pockets of her overalls. Contented summed up how she felt, happy with the direction her life had taken and the possibilities that it still held. Christine bounced up the steps that led onto the decking, noticing a china mug still resting beneath swing. If her guess was right, her mother had sat out there during the afternoon, reading some romantic novel whilst sipping on English tea, as was her routine. Smiling at the familiarity of it, Christine reached for the screen door, and pulled it open with a squeak. Nudging the front door open, she stepped over the threshold as both doors swung closed behind her.

The scent of baking apple pie bewitched her senses straight away. Her mother had spent at least part of the day in the kitchen apparently, and she salivated at the thought. Probably everybody thought their mother was the best cook in the whole of the Federation, but Christine was certain hers was. Her pies and pastries were so delicious she was practically infamous for them. Unfortunately, that particular culinary genius had not been passed from mother to daughter, not that Christine minded all that much. It would just give her more of an excuse to hang around her mother more to sample all her delicious baking.

Dropping her bag at the base of the staircase that led to the second floor, she toed off her thick black rubber work boots. The socks were next to go, and they reluctantly gave up purchase on her feet. Feeling the cool, smooth wooded flooring beneath her bare feet, Christine took a moment to relax. Familial warmth washed over her in waves, and the tension she hadn't realised pinched her neck eased itself loose. Without wasting any more time, Christine headed straight for the kitchen. Her pale, delicate fingers unzipped her work suit toward her navel revealing the black vest top beneath it. Rolling it down over her hips and legs, Christine kicked it aside.

Underneath were a pair of tight fitting booty shorts came a little too short over the rounds of her buttocks. Even the vest top didn't quite teach her waist, exposing a wide belt of her navel and lower back. Not that Christine gave it a second thought. Who could possibly see her like this in her own home, other than family who wouldn't bat an eyelid at her?

Pushing through the wide swinging doors to the kitchen, Christine had decided to get herself a slice of apple pie before heading upstairs to the shower. And god knew how she needed one.

"Hey mom." She said airily as she padded into the kitchen. Christine headed straight for the counter where a partly eaten apple pie sat on a blue plate, a knife lying next to it. Arching an eyebrow, Christine saw several slices had already been sampled, crumbs the only remains of the missing pieces.

Turning a questioning gaze onto her mother who was leaning into the corner where the counters met, Christine shook her head in mock disappointment. Her mother was dressed in a long cream sweater and a flowing burnt orange skirt that reached half an inch above the floor. Her copper coloured hair was pulled back from her face and fitted into a bun at the back of her neck, several strands hanging loose around her temples and ears. As was to be expected, she cradled her huge mug of steaming tea to her chest, her thin lips bent into an amused line. She was a beautiful woman who looked two decades younger than her fifty nine years, her bright eyes alive with mischief. They looked similar as mother and daughter, and Christine hoped she'd inherit those genes to look so good at the same age.

Without a word, Laura Chapel simply waved her half full mug toward the door that Christine had just passed through; before lifting it to her lips to drain it.

Confused, Christine's mouth opened to question the movement, when a decidedly masculine voice cleared it's throat. Freezing in movement, several thoughts hit the nurse at once. Most obviously, she'd sauntered into the kitchen practically naked. Secondly, her mother had company and from the looks she'd been entertaining him all afternoon. And perhaps more importantly, even though he had only cleared his throat, Christine knew she would recognise the timber of that voice anywhere. But she couldn't even bring herself to turn around to confirm her fears, even as her mother fought not to impart some witty comment.

How could _he _possibly be here, now? After all this time, after everything that had happened why would _he _have come here? What was _he _doing in her kitchen, eating pie with her mother of all people?

Knowing that her thoughts were likely to run away with her, Christine fought to keep her breathing under control, the thin material of her vest rising and falling a little too rapidly for her taste. She turned her ocean blue eyes on her mother, the colour and shape reflected on Laura Chapel's face. She silently pleaded with her mother to save her, but from the twitch of her lips, Christine knew that was not going to happen.

"I'll leave you two to it, I think. There's more pie on the counter, so help yourselves." Without another world, Christine's mother walked out of the kitchen into the backyard, closing the door behind her, perhaps to give them privacy or maybe to keep the carnage inside. Not that Christine would ever want to be left alone with him.

"Aren't you going to turn around?"

It was a fair question, considering purposely or not she had kept her back facing him. Not that he mentioned it, Christine thought it probably would be by design. Turning around meant looking at him, and looking at him would confirm that he was here. And confirming that he was here meant it would make him real, and she wasn't sure if she could process that thought even in the comfortable safety of her parent's home.

"I'm not sure I can." Came her soft reply. Her shoulders were frozen in a hunch, her hands holding flat against her chest and stomach at the same time. She simply didn't have the power to turn herself around. Nothing could have prepared her for this moment, and her heart beating her senseless proved that. Christine didn't know how she was supposed to think or act or feel, let alone have the presence of mind to physical move her body.

All she knew for certain was that she could never have imagined this moment in wildest dream of darkest fantasy. And now her mind was not her own. It was lost to rational thought, somewhere in the realm of the impossible, and as long as she didn't turn around to face him, she was certain there was a slim chance of getting it back again.

"Christine, look at me. Please."

She shook her head, strawberry blonde waves dancing around her shoulders. His softly pleading tone prodded at the defences around her heart, but she couldn't let them fall. Especially not to him. "I don't want to."

The air in the kitchen shifted, and she knew he'd crossed toward her. In her mind, she pictured one of the curved backs of the kitchen table chairs resting against the wall next to the door. He must have been sat there, hidden by the door as she entered and safe from her eyes whilst he had the advantage of a full view of her.

_Oh god! _Fearing just how short her shorts were, Christine wondered whether or not she should move her hands to cover her behind. The choice was gone however as she felt him behind her. His strong, towering presence wrapped itself around her. She could almost feel the solidness of his chest pressed into her back, the firm grip of his hands on her waist and the warmth of his breath on her neck. In reality, he never touched her, and that meant his presence was more dangerous than his touch.

If she'd just had some warning, she could have prepared herself or at least protected her heart enough to save her from losing herself all over again. Just when she'd been congratulating herself on the contented state of her life, he had returned to it – to her. Christine was just beginning to realise that she wasn't as comfortable with her life as she'd once thought. Whether she liked it or not, he was a solid presence in her life, not one that was likely to ever go away and him being her only forced a light onto it. Christine was slipping back into old habits, convincing herself she'd dealt with something when in reality she'd only been avoiding the issue. She'd sworn after Roger she would never do it again. Yet here she was, making the same foolish mistakes. Only this time, he'd caught her before she'd buried her head to deeply.

Now was her chance to deal with it once and for all, to get everything out on the table and over with so there could be no more second guessing. One final chance to say what she needed to and perhaps be free of his spell forever.

If that was the truth, why couldn't she still turn around to look at him?

That didn't matter anymore as he stepped in front of her. It was so sudden and silent that she found herself staring up into his face without a choice, a gasp erupting from her throat. Arctic blue eyes peered back at her, full of emotion that Christine could not qualify. Despite her reservations, Christine saw her hand reach out in front of her, and place the flat of her palm against his chest. He was here, and he was real. The beat of his heart was consistent and strong, a beating drum beneath a slab of warm muscle. And she didn't have to be a nurse to know his heart was working harder than normal.

"What are you doing here James?" She said finally.

His face fell slightly in confusion. "I came to see you, of course." He lifted his hand to cover her own, pinning it against his chest. "You left the ship before we had a chance to talk.

"You let me go," she countered, instantly regretting it. She was being childish, and knew that was a ridiculous line of argument. Yet James still looked crestfallen, as though he agreed with her and was admitting to his mistake.

"I honestly didn't mean to," he said softly, eyes struggling to hold hers. "You just surprised me with a request. With everything happening so quickly on the ship, I didn't realise what I'd agreed to until it was too late." His eyes looked sad, almost wounded and Christine wished that she wasn't the source of it, knowing full well that she was. "I would have come sooner, only I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me, but I...I couldn't stay away. I came here on the off chance that...that you..."

Words failed him, and he looked frustrated with himself. Christine inched closer, her entire body practically humming at being close to him. "On the chance that I would what?"

His free hand found her hip, and the contact seemed to galvanize him for a moment. "I'll be honest here Christine. I'm not good at this. I don't know how to say what's in my head...for it to make sense or to come out how I want it to. The truth is, I've never experienced this before...whatever _this_ is. All I know is that having you off the Enterprise does not work for me. And I want..."

Kirk stopped himself, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he obviously rephrased what he was trying to say. Whether he realised it not, seeing him move his tongue so seductively made Christine shiver, but he didn't seem to notice her reaction.

"I would like you to come back aboard the Enterprise. Please." Christine sensed the building frustration beneath the calm exterior he was trying so hard to display. He editing himself, something he didn't usually do. She always respected Kirk for being straight in his opinion no matter what. She wanted to cut loose the facade of propriety and let him say what he wanted.

However doubt was creeping back into her thoughts, clouding her judgement. What was his reason for wanting her back on the ship in the first place? "Why would you want me back?"

"Because you're an excellent Nurse," Kirk blurted, eye wider that normal. "Bones wants you on his staff, and has promised to promote you to Head of Life Sciences on board, if you'll agree to come back." Christine arched an eyebrow, and colour flushed his cheeks. "The Enterprise could always use a diligent crew member like you. And as her Captain, I only want the best."

"I see." Christine nodded, stung by the reasons he gave. Was it wrong for her to want him to say that Christine the woman on his ship, not just the nurse? A thought broke her melancholy thoughts however. "You're Captain of the Enterprise?"

He nodded. "I'm being promoted. The official ceremony is in two days when I relieve Pike. Starfleet Command has told me that I will have my choice of all the officers in the fleet, that I can assemble my own crew as I see fit. Everyone else has agreed to remain on board. But my crew won't be complete without the best nurse in Starfleet. I know first hand the excellent care you provide, and I'd like you to do that on my ship."

Unable to hide the disappointment from her face at simply being wanted for her medical skills, she started to turn away. She had been foolish to think he'd wanted her in any other way, but the icy chill of disappointment still clawed at her heart. As she tried to move away from him, his arm stopped her.

"That's not the only reason." It sounded strained coming from his mouth, but she could feel the truth of his words. "At the risk of humiliating myself here, you have to know that I want you for more than just your Starfleet credentials."

Christine lifted her gaze to meet his, eyes full of hope as he spoke again. "I realise things haven't exactly run smoothly between us in the past. Like when I left you to board the Nerada. Christine you have to know that I would never choose between you and - ..."

She silenced him with a squeeze of her hand. "Wait, before you say anymore James. I was wrong, not you. I was afraid you losing you and I tried to force you into making a choice between me and your duty. That was my mistake because I was being selfish, and I'm sorry. You are a Starfleet Captain first and foremost."

"I'm only a man, Christine." Kirk sighed softly, apparently not happy that she had tried to deflect the blame from him.

"Being Captain means I have a duty to my ship, but that doesn't mean I can ignore my feelings either. And now it's my turn to be selfish." Christine shook her head in confusion, lost to his meaning.

" I'm willing – that is to say I want to work harder to make things better between us. The truth is being a Captain prevents me from getting close to a member of my crew. I have to maintain a certain level of distance, and having you on board the Enterprise would totally fly in the face of that."

He focused on her now, hands holding her shoulders. "But not having you there with me...I can't seem to deal with, and believe me I've tried. It flies in the face of everything I've been taught, but I can't deny how I feel. There has to be a way for me to be a Captain and to be involved with you."

He muttered the word '_romantically'_ so quietly Christine could have been forgiven for thinking it was an afterthought. "That is, if you still feel as you did. I completely understand if you're don't and will of course respect your wishes regardless."

Despite the flare of hope that roared to life in her, Christine couldn't shake off the last lingering doubts that she had. It wasn't that she doubted the sincerity of his words, or the difficult he must face with reconciling his duty as a Captain with his feelings as a man. Rather it was that she couldn't trust herself to do the right thing.

"It's not that I don't feel the same about you James. It's just that...honestly? I'm afraid." He looked puzzled, and Christine knew she was going to have to explain all over again what she'd gotten so tired of reliving. "It can't have escaped your notice that I've got...issues. I'm working really hard to overcome them, and I hope that one day I will be free of it all. But I'm not there yet, and I'm afraid that I'd let you down. That I would do or say something that would jeopardize whatever this is between us. And I couldn't live with the knowledge that I'd disappointed you somehow."

Christine sighed softly, raising her head with as much pride as she could muster. He had to see her for who she truly was, and she wasn't ashamed to admit that she wasn't brave woman that she feared he took her to be. "I'm flawed James. On so many levels."

How he reacted surprised Christine in a million different ways. If she could have predicted what he would do next, it would not be that he took her hand from his chest and brought her hand to his face. Softly, he pressed his lips to the heel of her palm, kissing the flesh gently. Holding her hand against his face, his eyes burned deeply into hers.

"Christine, I would have you on my ship and with me, as you are. Flaws and all." He smiled softly, and Christine felt her heart thunder a missed beat in her chest.

She was certain no-one had ever said anything as romantic in the history of humanity, and her heart practically burst with feeling. He wanted her for who she was, and didn't care that she wasn't perfect. He understood that she had things to work out and still he would not let her go. The thought warmed her from the tips of her toes to the ends of her strawberry blonde hair.

Suddenly she was in his arms, thrusting her head up to meet his mouth a searing kiss. James kissed her eagerly, but she matched every brush of his lips with a caress of her own. His tongue plundered her mouth and their arms crushed their bodies against one another, her hands running over the back of his neck to lose themselves in the short bristles of his closely shorn hair. Christine had to pull back for air far too quickly, but he refused to let her move too far away. Instead he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes heavy and half closed and his arms wrapped her in a warm embrace.

"I've never felt like this before Christine," he admitted through a heavy breath. "No woman has ever enraptured me in the way you have. Say that you'll come back to the _Enterprise _with me."

She nodded against him, her thumb running gently over the pillow of his cheek. Truthfully, she could not imagine a place she would rather be than at his side, and would be immensely proud to be a member of his crew. "I'll come back with you, James."

He sighed again, clearly content with her words. Christine didn't know what the future held for her, or for them. But she knew that with James Tiberius Kirk at her side, the future didn't look that scary after all.

"Welcome to the crew of the Enterprise, Nurse Chapel."


	15. Epilogue: These are the voyages

_**A/N**__**: **__Update. The final instalment of this story for your reading pleasure. I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you to everyone who has read this story. Particular thanks go to those who have either it or me on an alert/favourite list. I would thank you all individually, but there are hundreds so that isn't very practical. Special thanks to those of you who took the time to review, as reviews mean a great deal to any writer. It is instant feedback, either positive or negative and inspiration to write more. _

_I have thoroughly enjoyed writing this story, and am toying with idea of a sequel. I'll let you know if I decide to go ahead with it. Thanks again for reading, and if you're checking this epilogue out, please leave me a review._

_I disclaim. Read and review!_

* * *

"That's the last of the supplies, Nurse Chapel."

Christine nodded at the junior Lieutenant, who leaned on a crate of medical equipment, running the back of his over his perspiring forehead. Tapping a few details into the electronic pad, she handed it over to him and began on her way to the exit of the cargo bay.

Since returning to the Enterprise, Leonard McCoy had more than come through on his promise to instate her as the head of life sciences aboard the ship. She was given responsibility for all scientific areas on the vessel, an act unheard of considering she had only recently been promoted to a Lieutenant. Leonard had assured her that it was a gracious offer; promising that it would help her in her quest to become a fully qualified doctor in her own right. Christine suspected in reality it was just a way to get himself out of the numerous administrative tasks that came along with the position, but she accepted it all the same.

If only the same could be said about her promotion to Lieutenant. She'd barely finished her third year as a Cadet, and suddenly she'd leap –frogged her way into a commissioned rank. Christine hadn't been sure she could accept it, although James had been insistent to put her forward for it. The Starfleet command officials had agreed, praising her for her clear headed thinking and exceptional dedication to duty whilst on their mission to stop the Nerada, and had made her, along with several other students from her year, full officers.

James had naturally selected them as his crew, and they had all been present at his own promotion ceremony, when he had relieved Captain Pike and had taken over the Enterprise as his own. Sat up in what felt like the rafters, she had watched it with a smile on her face, certain her heart would burst with pride at seeing him being given command.

That felt like a lifetime ago now though, and the crew had been preparing themselves for their first mission. Having taken time to stop at a Starbase to refit the Enterprise and update all their supplies, all senior members of staff had been ordered to report to the bridge at thirteen hundred hours. As the new head of Life Sciences on board the ship, that meant Christine was expected to attend as well. Supervising the last delivery of medical equipment, she now made her way out of the cargo bay to be at the bridge in good time.

She reached the doors, and came to a sudden halt as they parted in front of her. Glancing up, her eyes widened slightly as she recognised the passive but imposing figure of Commander Spock. A dark eyebrow had been cocked as he studied her, his hands clasped loosely behind her back. Christine couldn't help her reaction, sucking in a sudden breath and taking a step back. Spock relaxed his stance, taking a step forward towards her.

Christine couldn't fathom why he was here now. Ever since _that_ incident in the medical bay, the pair had barely seen one another, and she was certain she wasn't the only one two be avoiding the other. She couldn't understand why he would be here now. Christine glanced slightly over her should, realising that her fellow officers were on the other side of the cargo bay cataloguing supplies at not really paying attention to her or Spock. And why would they? What could possibly go wrong in the presence of a Superior Officer?

Placing her feet firmly together, Christine tilted her head upwards, refusing to be intimidated. Her thighs ached from the pressure she was putting on her legs, but it was necessary. Without it, she was certain they would tremble uncontrollably.

"Nurse Chapel," Spock began in that impassionate, almost bored tone of voice. "May I have a moment of your time?"

"Uh, of course Commander. W-what can I do for you?" Squeezing her fists together at her sides, Christine felt betrayed by the tremble in her voice. She should not be showing weakness in front of him, even after what had happened.

"I wish to address the course of events in the Medical Bay that led to the Captain's expulsion from the Enterprise." He let his piercing gaze rest on her. "More specifically, I wish to apologise for my actions toward you."

She blinked rapidly in abject shock. Apologise? Had she heard him correctly? Christine had never expected such a revelation from Spock even though a part of her still felt aggrieved at what had happened. She'd been content enough to let the whole incident fade into the past, yet apparently Spock did not share in that wish. An apology had never occurred to her, and she found herself trying to stop him from delivering it.

"But Commander Spock," she nearly shrieked, nerves and surprise making a potent cocktail that affected even her ability to speak normally. "That isn't necessary at all. You shouldn't have to apologise. In fact, if anyone should feel obligated to say sorry, it should be me because..."

A simple lifting of his hand forced Christine back into silence, and gratitude flooded her. Her nerves were running away with her and she was trying to apologise for something which she knew she did not want to, nor did she feel she needed to. Struggling to compose herself, Christine watched as Spock resumed his stance of hands clasped behind his back.

"You have no need to apologise, Nurse Chapel. Nor do I feel _obligated _to apologise to you. I wish to make amends because in hindsight I see that my actions were not only illogical, but grossly unfair. I should not have tried to order you into doing something that your conscious told you was wrong, and I wholeheartedly agree with the praise others have given you for your standing your ground when everyone else shrank into the background."

A flicker of emotion trembled on the surface of Spock's face, but was swallowed by the impassive Vulcan mask almost as quickly. "Furthermore, there is no excuse for attempting to use a mind meld to forcibly take the information I requested. That is unacceptable behaviour on my part, and I would fully support you if you wish to take the matter further to a Starfleet tribunal. A court martial would be the most appropriate method of discipline, and..."

"Spock," Christine interjected. "There is no need to say anymore. If you could come here and apologise for what happened, then I can certainly forgive you for it." She placed a reassuring hand on his upper arm. "You are incredibly brave and loyal, and to have held it together to command this ship after what happened, well it speaks volumes of your character. You're a good man, Spock. I know it."

He appeared as surprised as a Vulcan could at Christine's words, and she smiled, lowering her arm and winking softly. "Besides, with you off the ship, who is going to keep the Captain reigned in?" She looked a little more serious at the thought. "He needs you, Spock. You have to teach him wisdom and temperance, and hopefully prevent him from making too many rash decisions."

She chuckled, and Spock inclined his head slightly toward her. "You are wise, Nurse Chapel, more so than I realised. I see now why Nyota speaks so highly of you." Christine blushed under the praise, turning her head slightly to avoid his gaze. "It will be an honour to serve with you."

Christine looked back to see Spock holding his hand out toward her. Without any hesitation, she reached out and took it, shaking it gently. A ghost of a smile on his lips, Spock turned and headed out of the cargo bay, Christine taking a step forward to watch him disappear around a corner.

Just as the doors were about to close back together again, they held themselves open as the approaching presence of another kept them apart. Glancing in the other direction, a beaming smile lit up Christine's face as she noted the Captain striding toward her. She took a moment to appraise him, the Starfleet uniform and colours of the commanding officer bringing out the icy crystalline blue of his eyes that shone at her. She took a step forward to meet him, and the doors finally closed behind her.

He stopped just in front of her, and Christine suspected by the twitch of his arms he was restraining from reaching out to her. She stepped forward anyway, tilting her head back to look up into his handsome face, just as she felt the warm firm grip of his hand softly brush her waist.

"Nurse Chapel." He said softly, his voice low and dangerously seductive. The tips of his fingers squeezed her flesh gently as he said her name, his pupils dilating just a fraction.

"Captain Kirk." She whispered back, blue eyes trained on the full lips of his mouth. Memories of those lips pressed against hers clouded her thoughts, and for a moment Christine felt as though she would reach for him to make it a reality.

The sound of approaching footsteps held her in place, and she pulled back, licking her lips as Kirk looked at her somewhat disappointed. Folding her hands in front of her, she feigned propriety as a yeoman walked down the corridor, nodding his head at Chapel and the Captain. Kirk turned his head, offering the man a smile a curt nod of his head. Christine studied the lines of his face as James watched the other officer leave, silently thrilled at the square cut of his jaw.

Satisfied they were alone again, in one swift movement James turned back to face her and lowered his head to press his lips against hers. Taken by surprise, Christine had little time to react as he pulled back once more, a smug grin on his face as she was left trying to recapture her breath. They were probably breaking a dozen or so Starfleet rules, but neither one was particularly bothered. The evening James had come to persuade her to join his crew at her parent's house, they had talked all night through to the first light of morning about their future.

Both had agreed that there had to be a certain level of distance maintained between them, particularly in these early days when Kirk was assuming command of the vessel. The crew had to look up to him as their leader, and to be seen romancing a member of his crew could jeopardise his ability to control the ship and it's crew. Whilst they weren't going to sneak around to be with one another, they certainly weren't going to flaunt themselves either. The last thing either of them wanted was for Christine's promotion to be seen as an act of favouritism on James' part. She was definitely heading into territories that no Nurse had ever gone before, although Christine knew she couldn't be the first person to be involved with their commanding officer. Most definitely she knew she wouldn't be the last, either.

Perhaps their most important rule had been no fraternizing whilst either one was on duty. And within a day of being on board, James had already broken that rule. _Well, only because he beat me too it,_ Christine realised with a knowing smile.

"What brings you down here, Captain?" Christine finally asked, the picture of innocence of a member of the command crew. She leaned slightly on one leg, her hip jutting ever so slightly outward and she saw the way his eyes widened for a moment as he took in the new curves and valleys her uniform left on her body.

Licking his own lips hungrily, Kirk met Christine's gaze with a blazing stare. "I thought I might escort you to the bridge for our departure, Nurse Chapel."

"How thoughtful," Christine smirked, giggling as Kirk stepped to her side an offered her his arm. She took it softly, gracefully sliding her arm through his. They fell into step side by side, heading along the corridor toward the turbolift at the end. "How're you doing sir? Are the crew falling into line for you?"

"It's tough," he admitted, brow furrowing softly. "A lot of the commissioned officers have found the transition quite hard and why wouldn't they? What Lieutenant Commander would like to see a third year Cadet skip about ten years of his career to be given a ship, especially when it's the flagship. It has to be a bitter pill to swallow."

Christine squeezed his arm in support. "But they'll come around, surely? They have to. You were given this ship for a reason James, and people will either have to accept it or request a transfer."

"I'm glad someone believes in me." He smiled, although Christine knew there was a deeper truth to his words. He reached for the button to call the lift, and she turned to face him as they waited.

"The whole of Starfleet Command believes in you. There is no higher vote of confidence." Christine insisted. "Just give the crew some time and they'll recognise you for the man that you are, not the title you've been given. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised and they will follow you willingly."

He grinned, leading the way into the carriage as it opened next to them. "I shall defer to your better judgement, Christine."

She chuckled as the lift propelled them to the first deck of the ship. Standing at his side, Christine felt James' fingers daringly creep their way up her arm to slip beneath the hem of the sleeve on her uniform. Her hand caught his, extracting it from where it had ventured, a look of amusement of Kirk's face. She shook her head in a playful reproach, though in reality her skin burned where he had touched her. "Really Captain, whilst we're on duty? At least wait until after we've left the Starbase."

"Once we've left the Starbase, huh?" The doors opened onto the Bridge, and Kirk strode forward, his lips coming dangerously close to her as he whispered into her ear. "I'll hold you to that, Nurse Chapel."

Colour rushed her cheeks as Kirk led the way onto the Bridge. She hung back a moment, trying to calm her senses from the haywire he'd thrown them into. Straightening her uniform and running a hand over her hair, Christine stepped out onto the bridge.

They were the last ones to arrive. Sulu and Chekov were at their stations, busily preparing the Enterprise for departure. Uhura manned the communications terminal, busily recording orders that were spoken into her ear piece. Spock and the Chief Engineer Scott were in heavy conversation, Scott becoming quite animated about something. And next to the Captain's chair stood a rather bemused looked Leonard McCoy. She softly waved her fingers at him, and he scowled all the more.

"All right ladies and gentleman," Kirk announced as he stood on the opposite side of the chair to McCoy. "It's time to begin our mission. Uhura, have our orders come through from Starfleet Command."

"Yes, Captain." She replied, all eyes on the bridge turned to her station. Christine was certain her friend glowed with pride at her position, and she was secretly thrilled for her. "We are to proceed to sector 22239 and rendezvous with the USS Hathor and Captain Ramirez, assisting them with their ecological studies and to pick up the remaining members of the crew."

"Perfect. Clear us from the Starbase Mister Sulu, and set in a course for the USS Hathor. Warp Factor six." With a relaxed smile, Kirk took his seat on the Captain's chair, and Christine exhaled a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding onto for so long. McCoy mumbled something to Kirk, who grinned and shook his head.

Shuffling up to where Christine stood, he folded his arms across his chest. "Is it too late to get the hell off this death trap, you think?"

Christine smiled at him. "You'll be fine Doctor McCoy. The Captain knows what he's doing, there really isn't a safer place you could be."

McCoy snorted, digging around in the medical bag strapped over his shoulders. "I'm sure I stuck a little whiskey in here somewhere. You mark my words missy, if we don't keep an eye on that kid we're going to end up flying straight into the jaws of danger. I for one did not volunteer for an early death. There it is!"

Just as the doctor produced a small flask of whiskey from his bag, Christine took it from him, slipping it into her pocket. He scowled at her, and she just stared ahead, smiling. "That's not going to help Leonard. If James is as bad as you suggest, we may need your expertise before the day is through."

He grunted, but smiled all the same. "Don't think sucking up is going to get you anywhere Chapel. I already gave you Life Sciences, what more could you possibly want?" Christine chuckled, nudging him in the sides. "Seriously though Christine, I'm glad you're here. I think that hot headed fool is going to need you more than he will me out there."

Christine opened her mouth to object at the description of Kirk, but McCoy was in full flow and couldn't be interrupted. "Anyway, Starfleet command must be out of their minds giving him control of a ship. I wouldn't even trust him with a pair of scissors!"

She shook her head, ocean blue eyes alive with excitement for the mission ahead. "Oh admit it Leonard, you're as excited as I am to be a part of this crew. And you know he will make an excellent Captain."

McCoy pursed his lips for a moment, obviously knowing Christine could see beyond his grumpy exterior. "Fine. But you tell anyone and I'll have you scrubbing the Medical Bay for a month."

"Your secret is safe with me," Christine mock whispered, before moving to lean her hands on the barrier that separated the Captain's chair from the rest of the bridge. This was an exciting moment, and the wait for the Enterprise to leave the Starbase seemed painfully slow.

"We are clear of the Starbase, Captain." Chekov finally announced in his own Russian way, his youthful face obviously unable to contain his excitement of what was going to come next.

"The ship prepared for Warp Speed, sir." Sulu held his hand over the warp drive, ready to take them faster than light to their first mission as a crew. It may have been Christine's imagination, but his hand trembled slightly, and it suddenly dawned on her that they were a group of Academy Cadets let loose on the most advanced ship in the entire fleet. What didn't they have to be excited about?

Kirk stood up from his seat, eyes focused on the now polarized view screen that displayed the vastness of space before them. All eyes were upon him, and he seemed to Christine to be more at home here than anywhere else. If anyone had been born to Captain a Starship, she thought, it had to be James Tiberius Kirk. A smile broke his lips, and he indicated toward the black distance. "Mister Sulu, take us out."

"May God have mercy on us all." McCoy grumbled, and Christine chuckled softly.

She was a part of something special here, she knew it to the core of her being. And whatever lay ahead for the Enterprise and her crew, she knew there was no better place to be than under the Command of James Kirk. The ship hummed softly as the warp drive engaged itself, the faintest of vibrations tickling beneath her feet. On the view screen, the stars began to blur into streaks of light as they were propelled forward, that familiar stomach rush hitting Christine as they hit warp speed.

With the eyes of Starfleet upon them, and like everyone else on the bridge and actually on board the ship, Christine Chapel couldn't wait to see what happened next.


End file.
